The Intern
by simphony
Summary: Tommy Q's marriage to supermodel Laura Reed is barely a few days old when a new person enters his life. Jude Harrison is looking for an internship when she meets someone that makes her an offer she can't refuse.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, **

**here's my new story. I started posting it on DLS, but that site keeps vanishing, so I came here. Anyway, here's the first part. :)**

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><p><strong>Prologue. The job interview.<strong>

"Why am I doing this again?" Tommy questioned, not even bothering to hide his evident unhappiness about the situation he found himself in. Glancing at his watch, he sighed heavily. So much for a nice night out!

"Because," Mike, his friend, explained once again, while trying to adjust his tie, "I met this really hot girl yesterday, and tonight I'm going out with her. I forgot I had this meeting and I couldn't get a hold of her to cancel. Look, all I'm asking you to do is to ask her the questions I wrote down for you. How hard can it be to interview for an internship? You do this all the time at G-Major!"

Tommy set his forehead into a frown. "You compare the interns of G-Major – the young and usually overly-giddy girls that only want the job as an intern to meet famous people – to an internship at Toronto's biggest music magazine? You're kidding, right? I mean the last time I interviewed an intern she had her hand on my thigh after barely two minutes!"

Mike laughed at that comment. "As I recall it, you told me that after five minutes she was already busy sucking you dry. It's not my fault you set your requirements this low! Don't ruin this for me, man! You ask for her résumé, you look at it, and then say 'yes', or 'no'. Just remember one thing: Don't screw her! She believes you work for SOLID. I don't want her to think we're as sex-obsessed as the horndogs at G-Major."

"Technically we work for the same boss," Tommy pointed out, but then admitted defeat as he noticed his friend's anxious look. Joking was over. "And that aside, I'm married now – remember? Why is she coming in after closing time anyway?" The applying girl was scheduled for six pm, that's why Tommy was still sitting in his friend's office, waiting. It was Friday, and he really hoped this interview would be over soon. He had bars to be and wives to forget.

Mike, a tall man with dark brown, longish hair, lean built, sat down on the edge of his desk with still a minute of his time to spare. "She's still in high school. She had classes until four, so I gave her 'til six to show up. I planned to be here myself, but now… Have I mentioned how hot that woman is that I met?"

Tommy nodded, sighing. "Okay, okay. Go, have fun, and I'll hire you some overachieving high school student. How old is she?"

"Eighteen since last month."

Just great, Tommy thought. She'd probably recognize him and then turn all 'groupie' on him. Five years ago, he had still been a famous member of the boy band 'Boyz Attack' and statistically most of their fans had been between twelve and seventeen. That girl fit the numbers.

"I got to go," Mike called, halfway out already. Tommy merely waved a goodbye, before leaning back on the couch he was sitting on to close his eyes. Fife-thirty. Maybe he could use the spare thirty minutes for some quick slumber. Ever since he was shackled to a wife, sleep refused to come easily.

"Excuse me? Hello?" A female voice echoed along the empty hallways. Tommy awoke in no time, having merely dozed off. It was…fife-thirty five? Who was that early? She really was an overachiever!

"Anyone here?" the girl called again. "I'm Jude. I applied for the internship…"

"Over here," he sleepily responded. The rest of the floor was dark; only Mike's office was illuminated. He heard the footsteps nearing and straightened up, preparing for the worst. Usually, girls began to squeal once they recognized him. That high-pitched note was the very last noise on earth he wanted to hear just then. And surprisingly, it never came when she entered.

A shy head appeared around the corner of the door, smiling politely as she held out her hand. Long blond curls framed the head that Tommy had to admit was quite a pretty one. "Hi, I'm Jude Harrison. I applied for the internship. Are you Michael Stern?"

He shook his head as he motioned for her to come inside. "Michael had to leave early. I'm To—by Jackson." He didn't want to push his luck of going unrecognized by mentioning his real name. Standing up and adjusting his clothes, he then shook her hand. "Nice to meet you. You're early." A hint of accusation came with those words.

Indicating for the chair across Mike's desk, he watched Jude as she sat down. She didn't seem like the usual groupie. Tousled blond hair, a gray Ramones shirt, and black boots. What had him a little hooked were her skintight jeans. No girl should wear those pants as long as she didn't know what those things sparked in male heads. Jude didn't seem to know. There was an innocent, shy grin tugging on her cheeks, and he was returning it. It had been a while since he had seen something 'innocent'. Or maybe she was just one of those who knew how to come off the right way. She definitely didn't look like the overachieving student he had expected. That was clear!

Finally sitting down behind the desk, he took a look at the paper in front of him. It was Mike's list of things to ask her. _'How often could she come to work, given her school schedule? How much experience did she have? Had she ever written anything for any (school-)newspaper before?' _Tommy inwardly rolled his eyes as he trashed the piece of unhelpful paper. "So… Jude." She straightened up, probably anticipating the very questions he had just trashed. "You're barely eighteen and still go to school. How come you want to work? Shouldn't you be out partying?"

She shrugged uncomfortably, unsure what to make of the person in front of her. He had awfully familiar, but she couldn't quite put a finger to it. And that aside, he wasn't looking at all like a reporter she had expected. The guy on the phone, Mike, had sounded like a real professional person, having asked about her schedule, her intentions, and her experiences. This guy wasn't even interested in that. So far, at least. Dressed in faded jeans, he also wore a white polo-shirt that said 'Armani' – something she knew was an expensive brand because her sister owned the female version of that shirt, and she had spent a whole lot of money for it. A reporter didn't earn that much money – did he? Also, his unfading smirk, and the accompanying penetrating gaze made her nervous. She didn't know what he would want to hear from her. "Music is my life," she finally answered, trying to sound confident and convincing, not that she was lying. "I want to get a foot into the biz as soon as possible. I turned eighteen last month and I'll get off school this summer. I want to make a first step, and so I decided to apply for internships all over the town. I'm glad though that it's my first choice that asked me for an interview," Jude stated with a proud smiled. Her father had trained her for two days so she'd make the perfect impression in this interview and would say the right things. He had to hire people himself, and knew what mattered.

"First choice, huh?" He wanted to snort. He had been flattered so many times in his life that he could see behind every well-trained reply. "Okay. Well…" He thought about something smart to ask. He couldn't care less if she was a good writer, or an eager student who'd love to drop by each day after work just to serve coffee to her boss. She didn't really believe she'd write articles right from the beginning, did she? So, what could he ask her? Would this be a typical G-Major intern, she'd be complimenting him by now. Something like 'you're really sexy'. Jude wasn't looking as if she planned on saying something close to that anytime soon. "What's your favorite band?"

Jude was staggered. Not a question she had expected. "Still active band, or all time favorite?" She returned an irritated gaze.

"Still active band," he added. Interesting reply, he thought.

"U2."

Now that was a reply, he grimly noted. He wasn't even sure if he should believe that. U2 were so famous by now that even those who had no interest in music at all knew them, and their achieved reputation as one of the best bands ever. He tried again. "All time favorite?" Please don't say _The Ramones_, he inwardly pleaded. He wanted to know whether she really had a thing for music, or not.

"Velvet Underground." Okay, well that beat the Ramones. Not everyone knew _them_. He placed another few questions, regarding that band, and was amazed she really did know quite a few things about the band's history.

The many things that man knew about the music industry took Jude aback. Almost as if he had been a part of it once. But then again, as a good music reporter he really had to know a lot about music history. However, it did amaze her that he cared so little about background or her other work. She had written some articles in the school's newspaper about some unknown bands, and she had once worked as a stagehand at a local club, The Chain – though, only for two days, until her mother had found out and demanded she'd spend her nights studying.

Tommy thought about his next question. "Imagine you'd have to meet with someone really famous, like…" He wanted to bait her. "Do you know Chaz Blackburn from Boyz Attack? I heard he was in town this week." Chaz was his former band mate. They shared a weird kind of friendship, which was mostly driven by the desire to outdo the other one. They used to fight a lot, back in the days, but had stopped doing that a little while ago. Officially, at least.

Jude began to laugh, slowly loosening up. This was less of a job interview, and more a talk with a person she could imagine becoming friends with. He knew much interesting stuff about the biz, something that always impressed her, and he wasn't coming off as the usual boss type. As her worries to fail drifted away, she dared to speak her mind. "You call Chaz Blackburn famous?"

Tommy really wished Chaz could hear! He inquired with a smirk. "Explain."

"Oh please," Jude started, doing what she did best – lashing out at lame musicians! "Chaz, and the whole Boyz Attack group, are talentless, butt-shaking losers! I still can't understand how they managed to become so famous. Especially that one guy – Little Tommy Q – he's like the worst of them. My sister had a HUGE crush on him. I think she still has. Anyway, she listened to that cheesy crap they called music all day long. There was a big poster right above her bed, tugged onto the ceiling. She met him once, on a concert, and he didn't even talk to her! He's a walking joke!"

Mildly hurt in his pride, but not nearly enough to take offense, he did thought back, admitting, "He got a lot of offers, I'd guess. Maybe she didn't stick out!"

Jude frowned at the odd reply. "Stick out?"

"Maybe he was just not interested."

"In what," Jude scoffed. "Meeting his fans? I know he wasn't," she stated matter-of-factly. "That guy was hell-bent on screwing everything female. It's a good thing he never met Sadie!"

Tommy was speechless. Was she really applying here? She had quite the nerve to be that blunt. Apparently, Jude noticed, too, how far she had just gone. "I'm really sorry. I'm usually a very nice person." He wanted to laugh at that. "Anyway," Jude spoke, trying to get back to why she was here, "If I had to meet someone famous I'd treat him with respect. I'd not be squealing, giggling, or asking for autographs."

"Good." Cause if there were three things he hated they were squealing, giggling, and singing his pictures. "You mentioned other places you applied at. Where?"

Jude scrunched her forehead in deep thought. There were like twenty, or more. "Um… Every music magazine, a few music schools, a concert hall, G-Major Records, Iggy's guitar company,…"

"Wait. G-Major?" Suddenly he remembered that his boss had told him to show up in time on Monday, because a bunch of interns would come by to introduce themselves. He also remembered having handpicked said interns himself but didn't recall the name Jude Harrison on the list. "A record label. Did you get any feedback from them?"

Jude shook her head. "There was a bitchy receptionist whom I handed my résumé, and I'm honestly not sure if she even passed it on. She constantly mumbled something about redheads, and how they were ruining the world, so I don't think she even realized I handed her my résumé. That place hires creepy people." He could only nod. Wait – redheads? There was this incident a few weeks ago, where he had flirted with the receptionist – Chloe, Clara, Claire… Something like that. He and the C-something named girl had spent the lunch break in a motel and when he had been back, more or less satisfied, he had stumbled over a leggy redhead, handing her his number. She had been the lunch break-entertainment the next day. That Claire-something chick must have seen him. That also explained the frosty behavior he'd gotten from her ever since.

"You're okay?" Jude probed slightly irritated, watching for about a minute how he had spaced off.

"Yeah, yeah…I'm fine. Sorry."

When he stayed silent, Jude smiled hopefully. "You're out of questions, does that mean I got the job?"

Tommy's face lit up, and was about to nod, when an idea hit him. "No. No, actually not. I'm really sorry. You'd probably be perfect for the internship here, but…nope."

"What?" Confused, but more angry and disappointed, she forgot her manners for a moment. "Why not? I'm probably perfect," she repeated his words.

Because – he wanted her at G-Major! For once he wanted an intern that actually was there for the music, and not for him. And he had a feeling she'd like to work at a record label. "You know, it's already six-twenty, and I'm running late for this really important thing… Let's wrap this up. You're not hired. Thanks!"

Jude stumbled out of the office with a mixture of chagrin, sadness, and a giant portion of utter bewilderment. With such a weird boss, she figured it might for the better she didn't get the job after all!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter One. The new girl.

"I told you, Sadie. I have no idea why I didn't get the internship. The guy acted completely idiotic. He asked me the strangest questions – and weirdly, I actually thought we got along well. But then, just when I thought he'd offer me the job, he said 'no'. He called me 'perfect' for the job. And then he told me to leave!" Jude huffed as she allowed her confused self to fall backwards into the couch to delve in irritation.

It had been twelve hours since the interview, and she still hadn't figured out why she hadn't gotten the job. "Maybe he and I got along too well. Maybe I overstepped."

Sadie smiled sympathetically at her little sister. "You'll get over it. It was just an internship, anyway. And I thought you wanted to work at a record label, not a newspaper!"

"Right now I'd take everything! I'm getting out of school in a few months, and I want some place to go to, then. I think it's clear I'm not making it into college, and I don't want to end up being a waitress, either. I want something in the music biz, and I'd literally do everything for that!"

"Don't be so dramatic! It was only your first interview. Do you know how long I had to search for my first job? Three weeks! And it was just to stock up my pocket money!"

Jude sighed in defeat, realizing she wouldn't get any more pity from her sister. Reaching towards the small desk next to the couch, she aimlessly grabbed something to read from the stash of magazines. "Where's Dad?"

"Don't know. I assume he's wor- Oh my God!"

While Jude stared at her sister in shock for the shouted words, Sadie pulled the magazine out of Jude's hands. "He's married?"

"Who," Jude demanded to know, not liking to be clueless.

"Little Tommy Q got married!" Sadie held up the front page of the magazine. "_My_ Tommy Q got married? I can't believe that happened. Aren't you shocked?" Sadie asked, figuring it should blow her sister too. Little Tommy Q, also known as Tom Quincy, was Sadie's ultimate crush a few years ago, and though she'd never admit it, she still liked to look at him these days. His fame came from his early days in music when he'd been part of a boy band. Now he worked at a record label in town and truth was, she had strolled by that building on more than one occasion, hoping to catch his eye should he leave the building or enter it just then.

He was known as the perfect bad boy, with women to choose from in every city. He never committed, having stated that once in an interview, and now – obviously – he had! The wife: Supermodel Laura Reed. They had occasionally hooked up before; Sadie knew that from her intense studies of tabloids. But that the two of them had actually married was something Sadie's mind absolutely couldn't process!

"Well, aren't you shocked?" Sadie grilled Jude anew, presuming the whole world had to share her irritation.

Jude gaped at the cover. "Oh I shocked!" Toby Jackson? Hadn't he introduced himself as that? Funny, she sarcastically thought, upon reading that he was _not_ Toby Jackson, and not even working for the newspaper! He was a record producer, not at all allowed to tell her whether or not she was to be hired for the internship at a magazine! "I have to go!"

Sadie hardly noticed her sister leaving, still too grief-stricken over the wedding she just read about. In the very back of her mind, where immaturity still ruled, she had always hoped to meet him one day, and make him fall for her. Maybe he and that model would file for divorce soon? A girl could dream…

Jude walked through the impressive entrance of G-Major records, trying her best not to be intimidated by the atmosphere. Everything in this building seemed different and far away from the real world outside those big, heavy glass doors. Inside was money, there were famous people, there was even security! She marched up to the reception, naively demanding, "I want to speak to Tom Quincy! ASAP!"

The receptionist merely looked at Jude, before ignoring her again. Jude felt anger rising even harder in her. Being here to demand an explanation for the crappy number that Tommy Q-moron had pulled on her, her patience was non-existent when the receptionist turned out to be a roadblock to her plans. "Excuse me," she snapped, waving her hand in front of the mid-twenty brunette with the Britney Spears-headset, and an outfit that clearly was too revealing. "I'm Jude Harrison, and I need to speak to Tom! I have to rip something off his anatomy," she murmured additionally.

The receptionist's slim finger moved upwards, pointing to a sign on the wall behind her. Jude followed the lead and read the words.

_'No fans. No groupies. No stalkers.'_

Jude nodded, and exhaled deeply. Six stupid words and suddenly she felt like an idiot. Her anger had driven her here and clouded her thoughts so much that the little part of her head left functioning had actually believed facing Tom Quincy would be an easy thing. Oh yeah, she had _so_ expected this to be easier! Maybe a calm approach would help. "See, I'm neither!"

The receptionist – visibly bothered – lifted her head, crooked a brow, and displayed her annoyance with a scrunched nose that Jude just then recognized as something that had to be surgically modeled. It just didn't look like a real nose. More like a stubby teddy nose. Too little! "Listen, crazy girl: I have two questions for you, and if you can't say 'yes' to both, you're getting escorted by security. Question one: Do you have an appointment? Question two: Are you pregnant with one of our artist's children?"

"No, and NO!" Offended, Jude crossed her arms and stepped back a foot. "God no! I'm not that kind of person!"

"In that case," the brunette politely smiled, showing off what Jude further recognized as bleached teeth, "You'll have to leave. Last chance to go on your own."

Jude refused to give up so quickly. "What if I just go past your desk, stop caring about your words, and find Tom Quincy myself?"

"LOU!"

Jude's eyes got big in surprise, and she looked around to find out who or what a 'LOU' was. Rapidly, a big, tall guy appeared behind her, his face stern, and his muscles impressive. "Come on, let's go!" His words were delivered a scarily demanding tone. He was rolling up his sleeves. Jude had a feeling that gesture was meant to discourage and intimidate her. It worked.

"Are you talking to me?" She played dumb, though not quite as sassy anymore.

"Door. Now." He somberly replied.

Tom Quincy groaned audibly as he pushed the glass door to G-Major open. "Listen, Laura, all I'm saying is that it wasn't necessary to tell the press about the wedding! Now they'll be all over us, and you know I hate when they invade my private life!"

"Funny," Laura Reed sneered. Her long wavy natural dark-blond hair flew in the wind before she found shelter in the lobby of G-Major. She immediately went to adjusting it. "You spent years showing off your private escapades in the tabloids, and now, when you're having a _good_ story to tell, you don't want to? If I didn't know better, I'd say you're regretting getting married!"

He rolled his eyes, frustration speaking from that gesture. "I'm not," he lied. He had no idea how the marriage had happened. One day they were having sex, the next they ended up in Vegas, marrying to Elvis' Love me Tender. He wasn't ready for that sort of commitment. The logical thing would be to ask for a divorce, maybe they'd even get an annulment, but he also wondered if maybe he shouldn't just give the marriage a try. They say that it's best to jump into the cold water, so for now he tried to survive between the floating icebergs.

"Very convincing," Laura snapped at him, hurt by his lack of joy. After all she had not tied him up and dragged him down the aisle. They had both walked there – sober and by their free will! "I hope your boss will be happier, though that's really not hard to achieve." They had gotten back from Vegas yesterday morning, and now had to face Tommy's boss, the always _lovely_ Darius Mills.

She reached for his hand, but he pulled away. He tried to make it look accidental. Laura knew better. Not allowing the sadness to become visible on her face, she set up her mask, pretending as often lately to be utterly happy.

Inside they were greeted by Lou, trying his best to get his hands on a young blonde, which kept threatening with curses.

Most of them sounded an awfully lot like lyrics from hardcore rock songs, Tommy found, as he was caught up in fascination for that scene. In that moment he recognized the girl. She was the girl with the skin-tight jeans from last night's interview. Right! He wanted to hire her. "Jude?"

Laura stepped up next to him, eyes glowering as she stared at him. "You know her?" Judgment and warning mixed in her tone. "Don't tell me she's one of your floozies!" Giving Jude's body the once over, she scoffed and crossed her arms. "She's a kid with no sense for style!" Laura knew she wasn't the only woman in Tom Quincy's life, but she had told him that would change now. Along the marriage, she demanded monogamy.

Tommy ignored his wife and walked up to Lou, telling him to let her go. "It's okay, I know her." Jude had noticed him, too.

"Oh yes, you know me," she soundly barked, marching up to Tommy, turbulently slapping his shoulder with the tabloid she had grabbed in the lobby, unsuccessfully trying to explain her case. It featured Tommy Q's marriage. _"You_ know _me,_ but _I_ don't know _you!_ Toby Jackson? Is that your alternate ego when you fool someone into believing you work for a music magazine?"

He had almost forgotten about that. After his wedding had gone public last afternoon, first on the Internet and then this morning on hardcopy, a lot of things had slipped his mind. "Jude, calm down. I had my reasons," he tried soothing her. "Would you just-"

"Reasons?" Jude overdramatically rolled her eyes. "I really don't care that you had _reasons_ to lie to me. What I want to know is why you told me 'no' to a job you weren't even allowed to offer!"

"Because I want you for myself."

"What?"

That little word was directed twice at him. Jude and Laura were highly interested in what the hell was going on in Tom Quincy's mind. If only he knew himself.

Tugging on Jude's arm, he dragged her with him. He couldn't have this talk when a bitching wife, a nosy receptionist, and a just as interested security guard were staring at him as if he were spitting the upcoming lottery numbers any second. "Come on, we need to talk!"

In his office he offered her a seat at one of his guest chairs. "I can imagine you're confused. But, please – let me explain first." He waited for her reaction.

Jude crossed her arms smugly, and gave him an expecting look. "Well, start explaining!"

He sighed, sitting down himself. "Okay. I was there yesterday because I did a friend a favor. He met a girl and-"

"A girl?" Jude snarled. "It's just great to see how devoted you all are to work!"

"Devoted," he repeated in mock, his eyes narrowing. "This is the music industry, Harrison. Now one's devoted to anything but fame. Better get that straight from the beginning. Listen, I'm not here to let you belittle me. I want you to work for me. I need someone to take this job seriously. I need help. Schedules, phone calls, and some other stuff. I have had interns before, but usually they transform into this goo of embarrassment the moment they meet someone famous. You don't look like goo though. Even now that you know who I am."

Jude listened, waiting for him to continue. She also waited for him to apologize.

He grew insecure, not knowing if she liked his offer, or not. He wasn't used to that sort of feeling, and so he kept talking. "I know you've read the tabloid article about me getting married, since you slapped me with it. This thing will make my life a big, ugly hell for a while. And I'd be really glad if you could to help me out and work for me. You can sit in on recordings, and meet some industry guys. You said you want to enter the music biz, and whether you believe it or not, I can be your way in."

She knew that. He was famous after all, and he knew a lot of people. It definitely was a chance she'd love to have. But until he apologized for lying, she'd make him wait for an actual answer. A small eager part of her brain slipped up though, and just had to ask, "Hypothetically speaking, what exactly would I have to do?"

Tommy grinned, hearing the first hints of an agreement. He could tell by glow on her face that she was thriving for the job he offered. "Organize my day, take over my emails and phone calls – basically make my life easier."

"How much money would I get?"

He never liked talking money. That's what the accounting department was for, wasn't it? "No idea. How about…five hundred a week?"

Jude tried her best not to squeal. Five hundred dollars every week? That were two acoustic on sales. That were about 200 of those pretty guitar picks she loved so much. That was one electric every week. And, if she'd manage to save for a month, that would be a whole Gibson by the end of it! She played cool. "Works for me."

He just nodded, and decided not to call her up on the bright grin that was evidently tugging on her lips. He briefly wondered how he knew said grin was there, but wisely choose not to search for an answer. "Great. So, it's a 'yes'?"

She was about to hold out her hand to agree, but then remembered something he had forgotten to do. "You have to apologize first."

"For what," he snorted, opposed to that idea. Apologizing was something he only rarely did!

"Lying," Jude pointed out.

"I just offered you your dream job!"

"You're not nearly offering enough to make that statement true. Apologize, and we have a deal, otherwise I'll walk out of here. Oh – and I will tell your new wife you came on to me!"

His jaw hit the floor. He had not expected this little, feisty, and stubborn slip of a girl to drive such a hard bargain! "You blackmail your new boss before you have even signed a contract? I could make your life hell for that, you do realize that!"

"Oh please," Jude pronounced. "You just begged me to work for you!"

"I did not beg!" He never begged!

"Fine," she challenged. "Then I will walk out of here, and go straight to your new wife…"

He watched her walk to the door, he watched her turn the knob, and he watched her smugly grin at him one last time before he gave in, and for the first time in what seemed like years admitted defeat. His reputation had caused his new wife to be extremely doubtful when his faithfulness was concerned. Jude's lie would cause too much drama. "Wait!" Jude waited. "I'm sorry."

"I didn't hear you," she haughtily tossed back.

"Don't push it, I'm not going to say it again! That's the closest you'll get. Yes or no?"

Jude thought about it for one last time. But in the end, she really wanted the job, and that was all that counted in that moment. "Deal!" In a burst of excitement and happiness she marched over to him, and flung her arms around Tommy's startled self. "That's so awesome!" Then she smacked a kiss on his cheek and stepped back, grinning from ear to ear.

He found it cute how she could be so happy about something so little. It had been a while that he had seen someone so genuinely delighted. "Can you start right now?"

Jude nodded deftly. "Of course." She could imagine herself getting along well with Tom Quincy. After all she had already liked him, if only a tad bit, during their first meeting.

"So basically I'm allowed to read every email you get?" Jude sat in front of his PC, and scrolled through in his inbox, a little overwhelmed that one person could get so many mails, spam not even included. "What about the ones coming from Mrs. Reed? Or, is it Mrs. Quincy? I need to know how to address your wife."

"It's just Laura. And if she would have taken my name, it'd be DuTois."

Jude's eyebrows curved into mocking crescent forms. "You're French?"

"Why are you so surprised?" It wasn't necessarily a secret. It had been mentioned in tabloids on several occasions, actually.

"You don't look like a French," Jude asserted. "You look…not French."

"What's defining French for you?" he asked with increased interest. Usually he didn't care to talk too much with the people working at G-Major, or for him, but this girl had him hooked with her fearless way of asking and stating whatever she found odd. He stopped searching his desk for a note from Laura with some important phone number to call, belonging to someone he didn't even remember. Instead he sat down on one of the guest chairs and listened.

"I can't explain it." She scrolled further down his Inbox, slightly discomforted that he was paying so much attention to her. "You just don't look very French to me. The only French people I know are from TV and those have more…flair."

Tommy self-consciously looked down at himself, wondering where exactly he was lacking _flair_.

"Oh…" She found something interesting in his mailbox. "Um…am I supposed to read this?" The email in front of her was from Laura, and it described in fascinating details what she and Tommy had done the night prior to the mail, and how she hoped they could do it again. "It's pretty revealing." As she read on, Jude's brows did that quirk again. "She's pretty grateful for the little things, huh?" As she continued reading, she grinned. It was very interesting! "Apparently you like to collect favors instead of performing them…"

"She wrote that?" He was shocked. Not that it was a lie. Eventually he shrugged it off. "You ask me whether you should read the mail, while you're reading it?" He could only chuckle. "Don't tell her you read this. I don't have that many secrets. You can read all the mails. I need you to, to be honest, because you're going to be the one answering them. Every single one of them! Even the ones from Laura."

"Posing as you?" Jude wondered, looking up from the revealing words on the screen.

"Occasionally. You'll get used to it. But, just don't tell her. She doesn't need to know." Laura had a tendency to get jealous, and truthfully, he hated those moments. Knowing that another girl was reading his personal emails would only trigger too many of jealousy-related fights.

Jude wasn't so sure what to make of the fact that she was already asked to keep secrets. But, for now, while she was still too excited about her new job, she just went with it. "Okay."

"Here," he told while handing over a silver credit card and a cell phone. "Both spare ones. I need you to make runs for me, and I don't have time to deal with bills. Just pay with the credit card. And that's my old phone. I need you to be available at all times. Only I have this number, so don't give it to anyone else. Darius's number is in it – he's my boss, and Kwest's is in it, too. He's my friend and one of the few people in this office that will not consider you my newest fling."

"You're married. I don't even like you like _that_!"

"I'm more than aware," he dryly tossed back. That was all he offered as a reply to her comment. Then he continued to explain the world of G-Major to her. "If you have a problem, you can trust him. Unlike everyone else here! Better remember that. It's a shark tank you're working in, and most of the other women working here will try to get you fired. Better show off your teeth!"

"Will do." Jude made a small boxing gesture. "Fight off the jealous ones. Can do!"

"Perfect," he laughed. "I think you'll be great for this job."

"I know," she smugly agreed, making his smile grew even bigger. Tommy leaned back in his chair when a knock interrupted their bonding moment. Laura entered, closed the door behind her, then addressed Jude with a sharp expression, and blatant disapproval. "You're still here?"

"I'll be here for a while," Jude countered un-intimidated, not afraid if that bitchy exterior. She had faced enough of those girls, most of them her sister's best friends. "I'm his new personal assistant."

Tommy gave her a menacing but playful glare. "Actually I would call it more of a regular assistant-_like_ job, which also runs by the term _intern_."

"Whatever," Jude mumbled, resuming to read her way into his life by checking more emails. Tommy chuckled at her lame comeback, unaware that Laura obviously didn't catch the humor.

"So she's your _help_?" She purposely gave the last word a mocking intonation. "Couldn't you find yourself some old, ugly lady for that? And why are you in here for hours? I've been waiting for you to show up again. In the meantime I had to take care of explaining our wedding to your boss. He's not very pleased, but says it's better than me being pregnant. I told him that's the real reason we got married."

Tommy nearly fell from his chair. He barked an impatient, "YOU'RE WHAT?"

"I made a joke," she hissed. "Geez, good to know you're so eager to have babies!" Laura shot a glare at Jude. "This is a private conversation. You mind leaving?"

Jude, who clearly felt uncomfortable, was about to stand up when Tommy held up his hand, telling her to stay where she was. "Laura and I will go. I'm back in a bit. You're okay for now?"

"Absolutely," Jude assured, finding it nice how calm and friendly he stayed despite his wife being so rude. She watched them leave the room, and observed how Laura continuously glared at her, while Tommy gently pushed her out of the room. "Bitch," Jude snipped once the door closed.

She resumed reading his mails, and stumbled over another interesting one. It was sent to him a day after the revealing Laura-mail.

_'Hey Tommy Q…_

_I really enjoyed last night. I thought about your words, and you're right. Who really expects you to be monogamous! So, this is my new number: 647-342 891. Call me when you can sneak away…'_

Jude wasn't sure how to react. She had experienced herself how it felt to have someone cheating when her father had done so to her mother. It had ruined a lot in their family, most of all her parents' marriage. And, she had also experienced it herself. But strangely, she couldn't bring herself to call Tommy a bad person. Maybe it was because it just wasn't her business, or maybe because she just didn't knew him well enough. And that aside, she didn't know everything that was going on in his life, so who was she to judge by one letter. Life had taught her early that there was always a second version to each story. Maybe Laura even knew about what he had done.

"Have you lost your mind," Laura shot at Tommy when they entered his car. "She's a young girl with no experience, and yet you let her organize your life? How's she supposed to know how to do that! I should have known you're incapable of being monogamous!"

He harshly slammed his door shut. "What the fuck has that to do with Jude? She's my INTERN! I don't fuck everything female," he declared, pissed off in that moment. "Which you should know because you had to get me drunk the first time!"

Laura's eyes straightaway filled with tears. "I can't believe you said that. You deliberately hurt me? I'm your wife!"

"And honestly, I have no clue why that's the case!" Taking a few deep breaths, he allowed some shame to surface. Laura did have a right to doubt him, if he liked it or not. "Look," he spoke softer, realizing he needed to give her some slack if this was supposed to work out. If only he'd not feel annoyed so quickly. "I agreed to give this thing a try, but you can't expect this to work if you're throwing fits every time I talk to a woman! I'm trying here!"

"Give me one good reason to trust you!" Laura wiped her tears, even more hurt that he hadn't so much as apologized for causing them. "You have cheated on me before. How can I know you're not going to, again?"

"You can't," he stated flat out. "That's the point of trusting someone else!" He reached for her hand, wanting this fight to end already. He was beginning to get a headache, he felt genuinely bad, which wasn't like him, and there was too much work waiting for him to call in sick. "Let's grab a coffee, I'll buy you something nice, and we're okay again. Yes?"

"Sure," she smiled, trained and emotionless. It was the routine she was used to. He'd flirt with her over a cup of coffee or a drink. She'd get another necklace, or bracelet, or something equally impersonal, and in the end they'd just forget that a fight had ever occurred without the initial problem being solved. She had hoped so much that the wedding would change everything, but it began to dawn on her that the wedding had only changed the label, not the quality beneath. "I love you, Tommy."

"I know, baby. Me too."

Somberly she noted that he still couldn't speak the words out. Not even during their wedding had he actually voiced them. Why had they married? She tried to remember, and couldn't recall any good reason just then. Blinded by her love and attraction for him, she had, when spotted the chapel in Vegas, nonchalantly suggested it, not wrecking her head about all the problems their relationship carried. Why had he agreed? The question haunted her every night.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter two. Getting to know the wife.

Jude was sitting in Tommy's office, a chocolate bar in her hand, munching on it while listening to the yelling sounds coming from the outside. Tommy's office had a private exit to the back of G-Major, and that was where currently the newlyweds had their six-pm-fight. It was Jude's third day of work and every day around six Laura showed up to bring him something warm to eat. It took merely five minutes until they'd start fighting over something as ridiculous as a sugar stain on Tommy's shirt.

"Six-pm-fight?" Kwest was chuckling as he entered Tommy's office. Jude simply nodded. She had met him two days ago and instantly they had gotten along well. She believed he was a genuine friend to Tommy, albeit only having seen him and Tommy interacting briefly. He was pretty laid back. When asked to comment on Quincy's marriage, he only said that they were both grownups, and if they couldn't make it work, they were both to blame for it. Jude liked his open attitude and his straightforwardness. If Tommy said something wrong, Kwest would point it out, and because they were friends, Tommy never took offense. "What's today's drama about?"

Jude snorted. "Laura found a tiny red stain on Tommy's white shirt, close to the collar. It's from the sprinkled muffin he had earlier. She's convinced it's lipstick."

Kwest thought about it for a moment. "Is it lipstick? I mean – he's not a fan of muffins…"

"I saw him eating the muffin and subsequently staining his shirt. Apparently Laura is a bad cook and so he eats snacks during the day. The second Laura leaves, he trashes the meals she brings him." Jude's lips curled into a devious grin. "_But___ there's a fake red fingernail sticking to the back pocket of his jeans. It wasn't there when I got here. And Sheryl, D's secretary, just faked a family emergency to head for the nail salon!"

"So he has cheated." There wasn't a drop of surprise in his voice.

"I'm not sure. He doesn't smell like cheap perfume. Maybe he was just tempted, but time ran out, or something."

Kwest sat down in one of the spare chairs. "I have to say I'm stunned you're so little…_bothered_." He chose his words carefully. "If he really cheats on his wife, shouldn't you as a girl be on her side, not on his?"

"I'm on nobody's side." Jude offered him chocolate bar; he took it gladly. "My Dad cheated on my Mom when I was little. Took me a while to understand but there's always a second side to every story and never just one who person who's responsible. If she already doubts him, why has she married him in the first place? And that aside, he's paying me good money."

He laughed at the last statement. "Good point. Tommy's not a bad person. I just don't think he's ever really fallen in love. There's a bet going round in the office, about how long the marriage will last. Five dollars for each guess. Wanna join?"

"Won't he be mad if he finds out his best friend bet against him?"

"Na," Kwest assured.

Jude shrugged. "What did you guess?"

"Next week."

Jude frowned. "How much is to win?"

"Two hundred."

"Let's split and work together. I have inside info!"

Kwest eagerly agreed. "What do you know?"

"They booked a one-day spa trip two weeks from now and Tommy already paid for it! It's non-refundable."

"That makes my 'next week'-guess go blank. Your guess?"

"His birthday is four weeks from now, and he got emails from three women already, promising to come. I'd guess the week after his birthday."

Kwest was dumbfounded. "Damn, you're good. Should have thought about that! Okay, I'll buy us that whole week. Let's hope they'll make it that long." He could hear another row of yells coming from outside. "Right now it sounds they're filing for divorce already!"

"Tell me about it."

"You're the new girl." Darius Mills didn't introduce himself, nor knocked before he stepped into Tommy's office. Jude looked up from the PC screen and nodded, momentarily confused. She found it unnerving how rude that little question sounded. She wasn't easily scared away, but very easily offended! There was something arrogant about the way he was towering in Tommy's door, eying her as she did her work, or at least tried to do so. _And_****__, she was actually hurt in her pride that he didn't even remember her! A few years ago they had met one or two times already, while she had dated his then starting-to-get-famous nephew. Never for long had they been in the same room though, and she had a feeling he had hardly ever offered her a glance, but after the whole Shay-debacle – the breakup had been nasty – one would assume her name was still familiar.

Darius fully entered Tommy's office and closed the door behind him. "You look familiar. Do I know you?"

So he did remember her. Jude shrugged. "I wouldn't go for _'knowing'_, but we have met. Shay…he and I dated three years ago, for a few weeks. He cheated on me. You had your bodyguards kick me out of the house when—"

"When you headed for some reporters," Darius finished. His already unwelcome expression turned a notch more hostile. "You're ****_that___ Jude."

"The Very."

"Let's hope you'll do better this time than you did as Shay's girlfriend. There are a few things you should know about working here. I don't want the same drama from back then. When you dated Shay, you expected him to be a normal boyfriend. That's not how this biz works. Don't expect Quincy to be your normal boss. Number one, you're working for me. Tommy might be your direct superior, but I'm the one paying you. Which makes me your ultimate boss."

"Okay…?" She wasn't sure she understood what he wanted from her.

"Never sleep with Tommy, or you're fired."

Jude crossed her arms, deeply affronted. "Excuse-me? Tom is married! I'd never sleep with a married man," she snapped, hating that he even demanded such personal promises from her. The disapproving, nearly menacing stare had her raging. "And FYI this really is none of your business. You want to talk a little, let's start with setting some ground-rules! Rule number one: When you enter this office, you knock first! Rule number two: When you start demanding unreasonable things from me, introduce yourself first. I'm Jude Harrison. I don't think you will forget my name _again_," she sneered in a mockingly polite tone, "and I'm not the kind of girl you can scare mute by your 'big boss'-talk! Rule number three: Never talk about my sex life again! Next time you dare to bring up my personal life, I'll call my lawyer and sue you. That being clarified, you have anything else you want to bother me with?"

Darius' face became stoic mask of condemnation. No one had defied him like this in a long time and he found it – next to utterly annoying – impressive. Then he gave something, which nearly looked like the hint of a smirk. "I like you."

"If that's your way of hitting on me—"

"It's not," he shot quickly. "Listen, okay?" Jude nodded. "Tom is my best producer, but he's horrible when it comes to headlines. All I'm here for is to make you understand that everything he does ends up in the news. So, if you realize that he's cheating on his wife – and I know that eventually he'll do that – you keep it out of the news. No matter what it takes, under no circumstances it'll make a headline. Got it?"

Jude narrowed her eyes. She had understood, but had she really? "You want me to lie for him?" Slowly, she began to process why she was paid so well for this job.

"Among other things. It wouldn't be the first time a girl shows up, making a big scene about Tommy never calling her back, or something as pathetic as that. Whatever it takes, those stories will not make it to the public. So if you have to lie to someone, you will. If you have to push someone's buttons, you will. If you think you can't take care of those things by yourself, find me!"

She thought about Darius' words, and while she'd love to kick him out just then, she yet realized there was some truth in his statement, and she had a feeling one day sooner or later she would have to call him for help. For a moment she didn't say anything, but then a question that had been burning in her since the moment she had met Tommy bubbled up in her, and she just had to know. "Why has he married that woman? Everyone keeps telling me how shocked they are about his wedding, or how it'll never last."

Darius shrugged. "My assumption, he's trying to prove that everyone is wrong in their opinion about him. I know him for a long while now, and I can't remember one challenge he didn't take. This is one of the biggest of his life, and no matter how much he may want it, I can see in his eyes that he's not going to make it."

"Why?" Jude dared to ask.

"I know you know about his history with Portia. He did it to annoy me, but ended up hurting everyone in the process. His look back then was the same he has now." Darius stood up, grasping he was already delving into his personal history with a girl he couldn't say was trustworthy. "That's it for now. Remember my words. You're Tommy's employee, and that means you have to make sure he's not getting into trouble!"

* * *

><p>"Are you paying me to lie for you?" Jude bluntly asked once she entered the studio Tommy and Kwest were producing in.<p>

Tommy's head flew up, glaring at Jude's demanding attitude. "Excuse me?"

"Are you paying me to lie for you?" she asked again. D's words had made her seriously consider this job. She had initially seen it as a step into a career, and now it felt like entering the 'dark side' of the world. "If you cheat on Laura and I find out, do you expect me to lie for you?"

Tommy turned to artist in the studio, ordering via intercom to take five, before telling Kwest to do the same. Jude was taken aback at how willingly they obliged to him. One move with his finger, or one facial expression, and suddenly someone bowed at his demands. It was startling.

Once everyone was gone, Tommy rose to his feed, turned to Jude, and gave her a harsh look. "Never storm in here and talk like that again, understood?" His words were hard-edged.

"You haven't answered my question, yet." Jude, not showing any fright, stepped closer, and stood her ground. His eyes were intense, but hers were just as fiercely piercing back.

He could only scoff. That girl had guts, but for once he wasn't pleased by it. "You're not even working here for a whole week, but already talk to me like we're friends for a lifetime? You don't show any sort of respect right now. Tell me why I should by answering?"

"Because I will quit if you don't answer. If you have hired me to save your cheating ass from getting caught, then this is not the job I expected."

He could tell from the certainty in her eyes that she was serious, and while he was still furious she had so little regard for him, he was aware that he owed her honesty if he wanted this to work out in every way. It was possible he'd cheat, and that subsequently she'd have to lie. If he wanted her to stay, he had to be frank. "Yes. If I sleep with another woman, I expect you to lie for me."

Jude was dumbfounded. She hadn't predicted him to be this outspoken. Sitting down on the couch behind her, she simply stared at him. Did that mean she'd have to quit now? Hadn't she threatened him with that not even a minute ago?

"I don't plan on cheating, if that's any consolation for you. I cheated before, she knows, she forgave me. You work for me, Jude. I expect you to stand behind me whatever I do. I don't need you to morally defend my actions, but I do expect you help me in any way possible. If lying will help, you'll have to do that."

"Even to Laura?"

He couldn't help but scoff. "Especially to Laura, Jude!"

"Are you really only married to show the world you _can _be married?"

"Who said that?" It irritated him people speculated about his deeper intentions.

"Darius."

"Honestly," Tommy said on a sigh, half-surprised he hadn't fired her already for being so obtrusive, "I have no idea why I am married." He expected her to lie for him. He figured it'd be a fair thing to answer truthfully so she knew what she had gotten herself into. "Believe it, or not, it just happened. We went to Vegas for a short trip. We had fun, we got along great, and somewhere between sex and gambling we ended up in a wedding chapel. I wasn't drunk, if that's your next question. Maybe, and I don't know about that, I really just want to prove something. No idea! People say the best things in life happen when you expect them the least. So I'm staying married. I'm giving it a try. Maybe it's the best thing that will ever happen to me."

That may explain the marriage. But Jude wanted to know more. She carefully probed, "why are you with her?" Her eyes were hidden between long, low lashes; she was afraid she might be taking this whole being-honest-with-each-other-thing too far. "You two always fight."

A faint smile crossed Tommy's face. "She wasn't always the person she's now. The first time we met, she was a one-night stand…never mind, the next morning, with me being sober and cranky, I practically kicked her out of my hotel room. When I was about to throw the door shut, she placed her foot between it, stared at me and said, 'we will meet again. Cause last night I fell in love with you and I'm determined to make you fall for me, too.' Usually I'd consider those comments the first signs of craziness, but there was just something about her that captured me. She is fearless, Jude. No matter what happens, she never backs away. And if she wants something, she always gets it. So eventually, I fell." He closed his eyes for a second, realizing he had stopped explaining his complicated relationship to Jude, but instead was reminding himself why he was still in it. "At least I thought I fell. I still remember that feeling early in our relationship, when things were really great. I'm waiting for it to return. Cause that time was amazing."

Jude was unsure what to do now. "Will you cheat?" She asked, risking getting kicked out.

"Like I said, I don't want to." He had never before been able to stay faithful. "I don't plan to. I'm trying to be a faithful husband. All I'm saying is that whatever happens, I need you to be on my side and help me."

"Will you separate from her, then?"

"No. Or maybe, yes. I do care for Laura."

"But you don't really love her?"

"Have you ever been in love, Jude?"

She was bewildered by his question. "I think so."

"When you first met the guy, did you tell him you love him?"

"No. I didn't know back then. It started slowly." For a long while she had believed she was in love, but lately she began to doubt. Maybe he had a point. If she understood him right, he still waited for the big love to happen. She had waited too. She hadn't been married, but she had been in a relationship and like Tommy's, for a while it had been really great.

"See? I don't know right now. We dated for a while before we married but we never shared our life. Love takes time."

"Laura…does she love you?"

"Maybe. I'd assume. She says she does."

Silence fell over them again. After a few minutes Tommy looked at Jude questioningly. "Will you stay? I expect a lot, I know that."

"Is that why you're paying me so much?" She had told her sister how much money she was making, and Sadie had told her that not even most of the grown ups made that much money in their first job. Especially not without any trained skills.

He smiled, and busied himself with a loose thread of his shirt. Truth was he had never been one to think much about those details and so he had just suggested the same payment his assistant during Boyz Attack-days had received. Maybe she did earn a bit much, but he knew she was going to have a lot to face. "You applied as an intern; I hired you as a paid one. Interns don't usually earn anything at all. The last couple of interns we had would have probably paid me if I had allowed them to stay. Yes, you earn good money, but you will soon see that in exchange I demand a lot. Like I said, lying included."

"I don't like to lie."

"I don't want you to like it. I just want you to do it."

Jude wanted to quit, because she hated to deliberately lie to other people. But, she loved the job so far. She had sat in during one of the recording sessions and had been thrilled about it. This job offered possibilities she so far had rarely even dared to dream of. "If I do this – If I stay, then I need you to be honest with me. If you cheat, I want to know. I don't want you to confess, but I can't save your ass from getting caught when I don't even know your ass is danger."

He gave a small smile, but nodded. "Okay. Sounds fair. We're okay?"

"For now."

"One more thing, Jude. Never storm in here again like that. I'm the boss. What you tell me when we're alone is one thing. When other people are around, you show respect. Even if you have to fake it!"

"You bet I have to fake it," she quipped, offering a smile along her words.

He found he didn't mind her open personality. Next to Kwest, she was probably the only one daring to give him her honest opinion. Smiling back at her, he nodded. "It's settled then."

* * *

><p>"Where is my husband?"<p>

Jude's eyes drifted upwards from the PC screen, while she finished with the Pop Tart she was eating. "What's it with the people here? No one knows how to say 'hello' anymore?" She had noticed quickly that many of the employees here had a major lack in politeness, and in rules of conversation.

"My husband, Jude!" Laura's three hundred dollar Louboutin heel was tapping impatiently on the floor, cueing Jude that she wasn't willing to play any sorts of games just then. "I'm in a hurry."

"Sure," Jude mumbled unconvinced, however bit back a snide remark about it. "Tommy and Kwest are out for some sport's game."

"Puh-lease don't bother me with details," Laura sneered with as much sarcasm as she could summon.

"Never," Jude affirmed in deriding seriousness.

Laura bit her tongue from lashing out right away. "Well," the model sighed, "Did he mention how long he'd be gone? He told me he'd meet me for dinner, but I'll be a little late. Can you tell him that? Or do you need me to write it down for you?"

"Better write it down." Jude held up pen and paper. "I tend to forget things easily."

Laura didn't even bother to roll her eyes. "Jude. Poor, little, style-lacking, incompetent Jude. I could get you fired. If I tell Tom that you treated me badly, you're gone in split second! Do you think you're anything else than a nobody? I mean," and Laura laughed belittling while saying that, "you're bad in school. I saw your résumé! You're a future-less, unattractive, and pretty much stupid girl with no talent at all. You think Tom minds you being gone? You're his intern, sweetie. A loser. Whereas I'm his wife."

Jude smugly replied, "A wife who doesn't even know where her husband is right now. Whereas I," she bragged while pulling out Tommy's cell and credit card, "am the girl with his credit card and private phone numbers! Anything else you want to tell my little loser self?"

"You stole from him? He trusted you!"

Jude tried to object, but she contented herself with a long, exasperated groan. Laura was already calling Tommy's number, and Jude noticed with a sense of satisfaction that her boss obviously refused to answer. Once Laura ended her futile attempt to reach her unresponsive husband, Jude offered an explanation, not wanting to be the reason for yet another fight between the newlyweds. "He gave it to me, in case I have to run errands or so."

Laura stared at her in shock. "He what?"

"He _gave___ it to me. On his free will." Jude sat up, and handed over a piece of paper with an address. As much as she disliked his wife, she also pitied her, and she had a feeling Laura was having a tough time adjusting to a life with a husband whose attention for her was limited at most. "It's the address of the sports arena. If you had only been a little nicer…"

"Screw you!" Laura fired back, snatched the paper form Jude's hand, and marched out.

* * *

><p>"I want you to fire her," Laura softly whispered in Tommy's ear later that night. He was the most receptive after sexual exhaustion, and she had made sure he <em>was<em> exhausted! "Your snotty intern that calls herself your personal assistant. Fire her, please."

Placing a hand on her shoulder, he gently brought some space between them. "Is that what the whole night was about? Sex and dinner, the strip number, everything?" He rolled away from her, reaching for his boxers and pulled them on. For some reason the idea that his wife had used sex to get something in return disgusted him. He was much worse, having done the very same many times before, and yet – now that he knew how it felt to be on the other side – it appalled and angered him. "I can't believe you'd go through all the effort to make me fire her! You know, I actually thought you wanted to make amends for being such a pain in the ass lately!"

Scoffing as she wrapped the sheet around her naked body, she glared at him. "Me? You're the one who should apologize for being such an asshole! I've been SO patient with you! I have looked away when you cheated on me, I looked away when you flirted with the waitress tonight, I looked-"

"You looked away? I can't believe this! You did NOT look away, and I have made amends for cheating! I told you how sorry I am! It would really help if you could FINALLY let the fucking thing go! And I will NOT fire Jude. She's a valuable help who does her job. Why should I fire her? Because she's one of the few persons that don't bow in front of you?"

"She's making fun of me, in front of everyone!"

"Says the innocent victim."

Laura tightened the satin material around her and climbed out of the bed, facing him with unconcealed rage. "What about the credit card you gave her?" She tried a different approach. "I mean for all we know she's buying herself some ill-fitting clothes for that, and who knows what else!"

"Which of course is a lot worse than spending thousands of dollars for stupid handbags and shoes that you buy with it!"

"I'M YOUR WIFE!"

"Who makes 2 million a year by swaying her ass down a runway! Why are you spending MY money?"

"Because that's the only way I know to remind you that I'm your wife. I could offer my body to you, but what other woman doesn't do that? I could cook you dinner, or clean your apartment, but every time I do it, it's wrong anyway! I could show my support to you, I could tell you how much I love you – god damn it, I could do a million things to show you I'm your wife, but guess what: ****_You wouldn't notice___! So I'm spending the one thing you care about. And you know what really hurts? To know that you can't bear the thought of me buying something, but in the same moment give away a credit card with a _fifty thousand dollar limit_ to some _teenager___!"

Driving his hands through his hair in frustration, he sat down on the bed and groaned. "She's not buying something for herself! I gave it to her so that she can run errands for me and I don't have to bother with the bills. If she buys herself a car, I'll make her pay for it! And I DO notice you being there for me, okay?" His voice softened. A piece of him understood where her chagrin was coming from, but he wasn't used to dealing with situations like this one, and he wasn't sure he wanted to get used to it. He was just tired of fighting. "The last days really weren't easy for me. And I know you had a rough time, too. But I need you to stop harassing Jude. She's a big help for me."

"Then show me you care for ME, occasionally. She gets to see you more often than I do. And when we do spend time together, we always fight." Laura sat down next to him, reaching for his hand. The cracks in her heart that all those arguments with him left began to show on her face too. Laura wondered if he even noticed. "I didn't do all the things today to make you fire her. I love you, and I wanted to show that to you."

"I know. I'm sorry I questioned your motives." When he looked at her, guilt overcame him. It occurred to him that her face showed more weariness now than it had a few weeks ago. Gently brushing a curl from her forehead, he smiled genuinely and made a suggestion that by itself sounded ridiculous, but for him was a huge challenge. "Let's try and not fight for a whole day. How about that for a start?"

Laura returned his smile, and snuggled deeply into his arms. "I'd love that."

* * *

><p>"I need you to buy a pair of earrings for Laura." Tommy looked less tired and exhausted than he did yesterday, and Jude couldn't help but ask herself if he had either cheated and now needed a guilt-gift, or if he simply wanted to do something nice.<p>

"Screwed up?"

He grinned as he sat down in one of the guest chairs in his office. "Nosy, aren't you?"

"Always!" They had settled for strict honesty. He wouldn't hide his crap from her, and she wouldn't hide her opinion. She had told him if she had to lie for his cheating ass, she'd also show him her disrespect for his actions. She'd not worship him for being an idiot. Jude pulled out the credit card from her pocket, and smiled widely. "So…how much limit does this thing have?"

"Fifty thousand."

"Dollars? Fifty thousand dollars?" Jude nearly choked on the air she was breathing. The card dropped from her hand, and landed on the desk. She stared at it for long minutes, in awe, and even a little scared. She wasn't used to such big amounts of money at her display. "Wow."

He found it amusing how astonished she was. "It's only a small credit card, Jude."

"Small? What's a big one then? Two cars and a ship?"

"More like a ship company and a group of people like drivers and butlers that comes with it." He picked the card up and handed it back to her. "Better not lose it!"

Jude nodded, almost religiously wiping invisible dust off the shiny silver with her sleeve before securely placing it back into her pocket. "What makes you think I won't run away with this?"

"I know where you live," he reminded her.

"I could hide."

"Fifty-thousand, Jude. You can't retire with that. And neither can you withdraw it in cash. So, about those earrings…"

"Oh yeah! What earrings shall it be? Silver? Gold? Diamonds? Long? Short? Sparkly or matt? Curly ones, straight ones, or maybe loops? Hundred dollars, or ten thousand dollars?"

So many questions! Wasn't that why he had hired her? "Pretty ones. I don't know! Try to stay below one thousand. I didn't screw up that much. Just something nice to show her I do care for her."

"So it's only a little gift? What'cha done wrong?"

"I accused her of being conniving. And also, we try to fight not for a whole day. So far I'm good, but it's still a few a hours left. I like to be prepared."

Jude laughed at his explanation. As she cracked up in amusement, he was watching her a bit more intensely than he should, but the sparkling in her eyes when she was happy had him fascinated. Her merriment was cut short, as was his admiration, when Laura entered the office. Rolling her eyes, Jude got up and made a move to leave, but Tommy held her back. "Wait. Laura is here for you."

His wife gave one last pleading look to her husband, before doing what she had promised him to do – albeit reluctantly. "Jude, I'm sorry for yesterday."

That shocked Jude. "For real?"

Tommy coughed poignantly, and gave her a scolding look, telling her to just accept. Jude understood, and did. "Okay. I'm sorry, too." She just didn't think this moment of peace would last long, and to avoid being the reason for Tommy's plan of not fighting for a whole day to fail, she figured giving them some space might be best. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have things to buy."

Laura was about to speak up, the credit card thing still being something she couldn't fathom, but Tommy stopped his wife with a kiss. "See you later," he called after Jude, resuming to kiss his wife afterwards. Jude walked out the room, and watched a brief and unnecessary second how they did so, before finally closing the door. Something about that kiss bothered her, but she just couldn't describe it. Maybe she just didn't like watching other people kiss, while being single herself.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter three. The strip club.

Jude felt pity for her boss. And not little!

Tommy was sitting in the middle of the G-Major's lobby, behind a long desk, covered by a white tablecloth that went all the way to the floor, looking miserable. On his right sat Laura, and on his left sat Darius. Microphones were in front of them, reporters were tossing question after question, so fast that Jude wondered if they even wanted answers, or just facial reactions. Laura and Darius had their perfected smiles plastered on, making Jude ponder if they were actually happy, or just damn good actors. Tommy seemed as if he were attending a funeral. The topic of the press conference was Tommy's and Laura's wedding. Darius had found it a good idea to show off how happy the newly wedded couple was by presenting them to the reporters like a treat to a dog.

"Mr. Quincy," some reporter asked, "Is it true you only married because Mrs. Reed is pregnant?"

"No." Tommy had a habit of answering in the curtest way possible, with his face being as unresponsive as he could manage without falling asleep.

"Mr. Quincy," someone else asked, "Are you planning on having a big ceremony soon?"

"No."

"Mr. Quincy…" It went on.

When Tommy spotted her in the crowd next to the reporters, where interns and other G-Major staff members were watching the whole scene, Jude offered him a sympathetic smile. She mouthed an honest 'sorry' but doubted he had been able to identify it as that. She felt the Blackberry that Tommy had given her vibrating.

_"__Firealarm. NOW!__"_

Those were the words she received. Looking back to Tommy, she found him stealthily nodding at her, trying to prove he was serious about it.

Jude typed back. _"__No. False alarm is illegal!"_

She saw him glaring at her and wanted to know how he managed to do that without pulling every reporter's attention to him. _"DO IT! Or I'll fire you!__"_ He wrote back. Figuring her job was more important than the federal law concerning the use of fire alarms, Jude walked to the side of the lobby, and pulled deftly on the bright red hook with the warning 'Use only in the event of fire'. Instantly, a deafening serene went off. Jude once again found her cell vibrating. _"__Car. ASAP!__"_ Following suit, she hurried towards his car, which she knew was parking in the back of G-Major and not in the parking lot like usually. Wait – had he planned this?

* * *

><p>Leaning against the hood of the car, with her jacket in hand, she watched how most of the people inside G-Major unhurriedly left the room through the emergency exit doors. They were laughing, speaking on their phones, and had most of their belongings with them. If this had been a real fire, plenty of them would be burned by now!<p>

"Get in," Tommy called as he came sprinting towards the car, whose doors he unlocked with one of those fancy remote keys she found so cool. "Hurry, before they catch us!" On his last meters he swiftly put on his leather jacket, and his shades before jumping into the Viper without opening the door, just like Tom Cruise would in Mission Impossible. Jude had always admired men who could do that. It was one of those bad guy-gestures that in her weak little moments she found plain hot.

"Where are we going?" She put on her own jacket. It was only January and truthfully, she'd prefer riding his H2, or the Porsche, or any other non-convertible car! Why was he even having the roof open? Stupid poser!

"Somewhere far away from here. I was thinking a strip club?" Tommy grinned as he turned the heating on full force – instead of closing the damn roof! – making it a serious, but bold suggestion.

Jude's eyes grew small and defensive. She had come to learn that this facial expression – the daring, outrageously suggestive look – was meant to irritate her and remind her of how young and immature she still was, but occasionally she could reply with her own shocking remarks. "If you think I've never entered a strip club before, you're enormously mistaken!"

That got a laugh from him. "A strip club it is, then."

With most of her friends being male, her first strip club experience had come at the age of seventeen when her best Spied had turned eighteen and had celebrated in one. Some of his other friends, all male, had mistaken her for one of the strippers, and it wasn't until Jude had stepped on stage to announce the opposite and declare everyone inside the facility a moron that the barkeeper had kicked her out. Feeling no need to tell Tommy about that, she instead focused on more current topics. "Why didn't you just end the press conference? Or say 'no' to it in the first place? The whole fire alarm-thing was a little over the edge!"

"First," he exclaimed proudly, "It worked! And for the rest: Going against a press conference would have only caused more drama with D and Laura. Things are working for now." They hadn't fought in four days! At least not so much as before. "I'm not going to risk another gray hair by speaking up."

Jude started giggling. Her eyes searched his head, more precisely his hair. "A gray hair? Poor you, getting old already!"

"Make fun of me and I'll drop you off on this street and leave you!"

"Why'd you bring me in the first place?"

"As an alibi." The way he said it made it seem as if it should have been obvious.

Jude only rolled her eyes.

"Laura won't believe I did something 'wrong' when I have you with me."

"And it's not crossing her mind you could do something 'wrong' with me?" She mocked his deliberate intonation of the word 'wrong'. He had said it so strangely that Jude wanted to scoff. In Tommy's mind, 'wrong' and 'really wrong' were two entirely different things. Cheating, lying, flirting with someone other than his wife, and a whole lot more were labeled just 'wrong'. 'Really wrong' were things like killing someone, or stealing a little child's candy. Sleeping with another woman while the wife waited at home was just a harmless 'bad boy'-thing, and nothing morally questionable! Jude had yet to get used to that kind of thinking.

Tommy meanwhile thought about Jude's question. Could he do something wrong with his intern? "Honestly," he admitted with a bit of surprise, "that idea never even crossed my mind!"

Ouch, she wanted to say.

* * *

><p>"Tom," The barkeeper of 'Gilligan's Island of the Naked Girls' greeted them excitedly when Tommy and Jude entered the club. "Didn't expect you to come back soon! How's married life?"<p>

"I'm here," Tommy simply replied, causing the other man to laugh. He poured in a few drinks, waved over some naked women, and then stepped towards Tommy and Jude, greeting the latter with a bow. "You're here to apply?"

Jude's arms crossed defensively, and a sharp glare hit the barkeepers mustering eyes. "No!"

"Too bad. We're always looking for some good background girls."

Tommy was about to define her as his assistant, when Jude stepped up. "Background? If I worked here, I'd be the leading sensation!" She straightened up smugly before walking over to one of the booths to sit down to watch the show. Tommy and Phil, the barkeeper/owner, only looked after her in amazement, their eyes less on her back, and more on her butt. "Feisty one," Phil commented.

Tommy chuckled. "You have no idea!" He had quickly learned that Jude had serious issues with letting other people tell her what she could and couldn't do, but that she had the guts for a remark like that even impressed him. After all, she was only eighteen.

Jude watched in boredom how Tommy finished his third beer. "Why aren't you with your wife?" She hoped he wouldn't shut down, or leave her here by storming off. He hated talking about his private life, which was why she was so little surprised he had fled from the press conference.

"I can't spend every second of my day with her," he admitted silently, watching the show half-heartedly. "I'm not the kind of person who can stay with only one person for several hours without getting tense. Kwest – that's different. We don't talk all the time, or stuff like that. But with Laura, I feel like I'm obliged to entertain her whenever we're together. That's exhausting."

"You don't entertain me," Jude pointed out. She and Tommy had worked together for a lot of hours by now, and she hadn't had the feeling that she was annoying him, or even stressing him. Then again, she wasn't his wife, and so maybe he was but never let it on.

Tommy had noticed, too, how easily it was to be around Jude. Truthfully, it had surprised him when he had realized so the first time. She was funny, and entertaining without even trying, and when they were not talking, but simply working in the same room in silence, it still wasn't weird. But, he wasn't willing to put too much thought into that, maybe even afraid of what he might find out if he did. So instead, he shrugged it off and explained it in the only way possible. "You're like Kwest."

Jude huffed. Again, ouch!

This time Tommy saw Jude's unhappiness, though. "What? Comparing you to one of my closest friends annoys you?"

"No," Jude quickly declared. Damn, she hadn't wanted him to notice that slip of her mind! "It's just…you just compared me to a guy!"

"To a friend," Tommy corrected.

"A _male_ friend," Jude recalled.

"I don't get the point."

"I'm a woman!"

"Apparently," he agreed. No man he knew would be offended by being called a friend!

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He groaned, letting his head fall back in frustration. "I don't know, Jude. You're pissed off and blame me for it! What did I do?"

"I don't like being compared to a guy! I'm a girl and I'd appreciate if you remember that every once in a while!"

"If you expect me to buy you flowers or some shit like that, I can assure you I'm not even doing that for my wife! You only work for me, but I just called you a friend. Why are you making a scene right now?"

In that moment one of the topless waitresses brought another beer for Tommy, and a new diet coke for Jude. "Hey!" Jude stopped the woman, having never been shy before when it came to finding support. The girl was a very pretty brunette called Nicole. Her nametag was pinned to a deep purple satin bra with feather applications, that didn't cover anything of her breasts, but merely raised them up to make them even perkier. Nicole looked at Jude in surprise. "If a guy says you're like his male friend, what would you do?"

"Pour a drink over his head," Nicole stated nonchalantly before leaving again. Jude grinned in victory, while Tommy made a face as if she had just grown a second head.

"You're – I don't even know what you are!" He had never been good with women. He could charm them up to no end, but actually understanding them? "You know what? You're not like Kwest! You are nowhere near Kwest!"

"Thanks," Jude quipped, not hearing the offense. "That's all I wanted to hear!"

"Better order me another beer. You got me a headache," he mumbled.

"I'll even get you aspirin," Jude sweetly told him. "I just need your keys first."

"No."

"How are you planning to go home again?"

"Inside a car."

"A cab," Jude advised.

"My car," he corrected. He pulled out his keys and held them up. "My car and I are driving home together. Period."

"No way. You're only a few drinks away from being completely wasted, and I'm not letting you drive drunk. If you're dead, my job would be gone!"

"Damn, you're caring!" Trying to win the staring contest she was engulfing him in, he glowered at her the most threatening way he could muster. Suddenly Jude leaned forward, chastely pecked his lips so quickly that he barely noticed it, and leaned right back again. When his mind finally snapped out of its daze he found his car keys missing.

Jude was sitting in her spot again, grinning, playing with his car keys. "I can't wait to take you home…"

"What the hell just happened?"

Jude shrugged. "Stole your keys."

"No, I mean the kiss." For reasons that right now were out of his grasp, he was angry with her for doing so.

"Don't make a big deal out of it. It was merely a peck, and I only did it to confuse you. I say it worked," she cockily boosted. "By the way, you're not even my type!"

The carelessly thrown comment had him completely forgetting that a fully naked woman was practically getting off on stage just then. Not that he had paid a lot of attention to the show to begin with. Between being angry with her for having kissed him and being confused for being called the wrong type, he murmured an irritated, "Not your type?" He was every woman's type! "Define your 'type' for me, will you?"

Jude couldn't believe he found it so important, but it was either answering him, or focusing on the woman that had just begun to hump the pole on stage. "Nice. Attentive. He has morals and values," she added, trying to get her message across. He had flat out told her it was most likely he'd cheat on his wife. That pretty much made him 'un-dateable' to her.

"I do have moral values." He had not missed the message. "I'm not a heartless asshole!"

"Gee," Jude defensively exclaimed, now regretting she'd brought that up. "I wasn't trying to offend you! You asked, I answered. And, you're really having high morals when you cheat!"

"Says the girl who just kissed a married man."

"It was a chaste peck with no other meaning than to keep you from killing yourself!"

"Seriously, I'm having a headache. Screw it, just bring me home in one piece, and then you can take the rest of the day off."

"Will do. You want me to call ahead, and inform Laura you're on your way?" Jude's lips curled upwards as she was enjoying his suffering. "Maybe she'll await you in a kinky nurse costume. The stripper from before left hers on stage. Maybe you can borrow it!"

"Shut up," he snapped, and held his aching head. "Please!"

"You really do have a headache, don't you?"

"Yes." He couldn't even express his chagrin with another tart comment. He just wanted to leave.

* * *

><p>Jude sat at Tommy's PC, biting her lip as she read the email.<p>

_"Hey Handsome, _

_I'm sitting at home, waiting for you to come back from work. I know you'll be gone for some more hours, but you should know that right now I'm wearing nothing but that thong with the small bow in the back – you know, the one you like to undo with your teeth. I'm watching that special little movie you and I made on our wedding night while my hands keep itching to tou–"_

Jude abruptly stopped reading. Looking away, shuddering, she fought hard to rid her mind of images of Quincy's naked, aroused wife. The mail had arrived two minutes ago, so chances were Laura was still horny and waiting for her hubby. Jude pressed Print.

"Deal with it!"

Jude rolled her eyes as she tried pushing the printed mail into his hands. He was in the middle of a recording session and looked annoyed. "I can't deal with this, cause it's a mail meant for you. Just read. Please!"

He roughly pulled his headphones off. "Harrison, I'm in this studio for six hours straight, working my ass off to get this incompetent moron of a guitar player to play a melody the way it's meant to be played, which," he snapped into the intercom, "he'd do if he knew how to read notes!" Tommy looked at Jude again. "I'm paying you to deal with my mail, so deal! Got it?"

"You seriously want to read—"

"I seriously don't," he retorted. "Get lost, write a fitting reply, and that's it."

"You—"

"Leave, Harrison. Now."

She sighed heavily as she strolled out. Fine. He wanted her to reply accordingly. She could do that.

Back in front of the PC, Jude stretched out her hands, cracked her knuckles and got to work…

_"To my hot-blooded Babe,_

_I'm stuck in the studio. Not all people are as gifted on the guitar as I am."_

The best way to impersonate Quincy, Jude thought, was to be as preposterous a jerk as one could be.

_"But why waste this feverish moment of yours, even though only my mind can be with you. Imagine my teeth nipping ever so teasingly on that little bow of your thong. Can you feel the heat of my hot breath fanning that porcelain back of yours? My lips are tingling as I'm imagining it. As I'm watching this untalented boy ruining his guitar in his attempts to play it, my fingertips long to play with something on their own – or rather, play with something of yours. Can you feel me, gently caressing the inside of your thighs, tickling, teasing, arousing? Can you? Cause I can certainly feel you responding to me…_

_Gotta go. Don't put on clothes. The thought of you awaiting me like this keeps me thriving to call it a day." _

Jude smiled. Perfect. She pressed 'Send' and leaned back. If that didn't do some good for Quincy's marriage, then what else would?

* * *

><p>"Is there <em>anything<em> you want to tell me?" Tommy was sitting behind his desk the next day, the PC on, the screen directed at Jude, who was confused as she closed the door behind her.

"Um…I'm sorry for changing your desktop wallpaper?"

"I got home late last night, tired and exhausted. A day of listening to an idiot raping his guitar can do that to a guy! But instead of a nice, relaxing evening, I entered the apartment only to find my naked wife sitting on the couch in my living room, angry and somewhat sexually frustrated. Stupid me for wondering out loud in that moment what was going on. See, the average husband might have just used the opportunity. Some other guy would have just stripped down, maybe tossing out a few words like 'oh, nice thong' or something, but you should know me better by now: I'm far from average. I didn't use the opportunity. Neither did I understand why she hit me with a shoe – a five-inch heeled Chanel Pump, if you must know – when I unintelligently pointed out that I had not written an email to her when she held up her notebook and pointed it at me accusingly. So Jude, let me ask again: Is there _anything_ you want to tell me?"

Jude walked up to the desk, tugged a sheet of paper from between other sheets of paper and held it up in front of him. "You told me to reply fittingly. I did. Poetically even, I might add. Have you ever heard of the term 'Just go with it?' It'd have done you good last night."

"Next time you and my wife exchange dirty mails, tell me about it, so I'm informed!"

"I tried telling you!"

"Not hard enough!"

"Any harder and you'd have had a bump on your forehead!" She then noticed that he, already, had a bump on his forehead and started laughing. "Laura has quite the aim, huh?"

"Very funny. Ha. Ha. By the way, she thinks someone hacked into my email account, cause that's the story I had to come up with to cover for you and your aspiration of becoming a writer for porn!"

"So she doesn't know it was me?"

"No. You're welcome, by the way." He turned the screen back, scrolling through the mail until he found what he was looking for. "**_'_**_Not all people are as gifted as I am._**_'_** I'm hoping for your sake that's not sarcasm."

"On the guitar," Jude corrected. "I said, not all people are as gifted as you _on the guitar_! Big difference."

"Same crap." He switched the screen off and grabbed the guitar not far from him. "Just so you know, I am gifted on the guitar!"

"I know. I never said you were gifted otherwise." With a smirk she left the room, leaving him and his grumbling behind.

"Hey, wait," he called after her, guitar in hand. "That's my favorite Gibson. You want to play it?"

"Why don't I like where this is going?"

"Apparently, Laura liked the idea of dirty-mail-exchanges. She wants to try it for real. With the real me. Be me again."

"Quincy, she's your wife. From the mail I read last night I found out more about her than I know about all people I know, combined! Apparently, you guys are into amateur porn. Let's strike a deal: I get to sell the tape on eBay, keep the cash and then you can come and ask again. As odd as it must be for you to hear this, my life does not revolve around your sex life. Writing of you and your equipment doesn't make my day."

"You did it last night."

"To teach you a lesson."

"Lesson learned. You're a good writer!"

She wanted to hit him. Was he being ignorant on purpose? "No."

"Why are you so snappy all of sudden?" He blocked her way, cornering her. "What's wrong?"

"You really want me to be you? Okay. Here goes: '_Hey Babe, let's have sex. In and out. It won't take long!_**'** Are you sure you want me to write that?"

As he was listening to her more than inaccurate impersonation of him, he also realized they were attracting an audience. "That way," he said and nudged her towards a deserted part of the hallway. "Seriously, what's wrong? Yesterday you had fun posing as me, and today you're all mad at me? What happened?"

"Nothing," she mumbled. It wasn't a lie. Nothing had happened, which actually was the problem. Last night, she was spurned on by her wish to teach Tommy a lesson but now he was asking her to write sexual letters to his very experienced wife. It was turning from a one-time funny thing into an actual thing. Problem was, she was a virgin and so her knowledge of sex was limited to movies and the occasional internet porn she came across when visiting her male friends. What if that would show?

Tommy took a step closer, whispering, "I'm not asking you to get too dirty with her. Just some heavy flirting via mail."

"No, okay?"

He nodded, but remained confused. "Okay."

"So, there's anything particular you want me to do today?"

"Write emails?"

She hit his shoulder. "Quincy!"

He couldn't help but laugh.

Meanwhile Kwest was coming out of Darius' office, his boss right behind him. When both stopped to take in the scene of the bantering couple, Kwest shook his head.

"I don't like this," Darius stated. "They get along too well. The last time he became friends with a girl, it was followed by his divorce, the end of Boyz Attack and a tragic death."

"I know," Kwest agreed. "I know…"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter four. The inappropriate moment.

That Saturday, Jude had decided to use the Tommy-free day at G-Major – he was spending some much needed quality time with his wife – to re-organize some major aspects of his every day life in the office. That of course also included making some general changes at G-Major. The most important thing was to teach these people some manners. Freshly printed and written in bold black letters, a new sign now graced Tommy's office door.

'_Office of Tom Quincy. Vize President. Senior Producer.' _

Right beneath that sign was another sign.

'_Office of Jude Harrison. Personal Assistant to Mr. Quincy.'_

Then came a third sign. Having taken an example at the sign over the receptionist's desk – which now that she worked here, Jude could completely understand – she had written her own little message she'd like visitors to read before entering.

'_No entering without knocking. No sex. No bitching.'_

She couldn't wait for Tommy to see them. She was particularly interested in his reaction towards her self-given title 'Personal Assistant'. Way before printing the new signs, she had called the local ticket hotline for the upcoming concert of The Fray. She had waited over a year for them to come to Toronto again, and now that they were finally back, she wanted to go at any given price. Of course, so wanted probably every other citizen of this city. By the time she had called, the tickets had already been sold out. She had tried persuading the woman on the phone that the tickets were for Tom Quincy and that it was her job to get them for him, but the woman had not believed her. Then Jude had hung up, called again and this time she had told the person on the other line that she was Tom Quincy's personal assistant and that he and his newly wedded wife were planning to celebrate their two-week anniversary at said concert.

It had worked. The tickets for the VIP area would arrive at two pm on Monday, by special delivery to the hands of Jude Harrison. VIP. She had never been at a concert as a VIP before. She couldn't wait! That whole experience however had also shown her that it was necessary for her to call herself Tom Quincy's personal assistant, for it offered doors to a whole new world. Hence the new name signs on the door.

Another change would be his schedule. It was a mess. He did what he did, when he wanted to do it, with no interest in whether or not other people had even time for it. That again caused a bunch of other personal assistants and secretaries to call Jude and complain about Tommy's lack of care for the lives of others. Now she had set up a schedule for the upcoming week, along with color-coordinated appointments, ranked by importance, and by the amount of time Jude had needed to make said appointment even possible. The schedule was mainly supposed to help herself, not him. If she needed to talk to some bitchy secretary to change the date, she'd not do it unless Tommy gave her a really good reason.

She also had worked in time for his wife. Since she hated the idea of having to lie to his wife to cover a possible betrayal, she'd make sure he'd not have the time, or the opportunities, to cheat. The evenings were reserved for his wife, and when he got an invitation to a party, or another event, Jude automatically made sure his wife would attend too. He'd most likely despise her for that, but she didn't care. After all, she was just doing her job. By the time all that was done it was around noon and with a roaring stomach and an exhausted brain she collapsed into his leather couch with a bag full of donuts.

"So many things are wrong with this picture – I don't even know where to start!"

Jerking up, Jude found Tommy propped with one arm against the doorframe, smirking. "Quincy, what are you doing here? Where is Laura?"

"This is my office. Laura needed to leave for a job. She's got a shoot in Rome and left an hour ago. You're getting cozy on my leather couch with your dirty boots? Eating those sticky, sprinkled, strain-leaving donuts no less?" He entered with his customary swagger, walking towards the end of the couch where her feet rested. He nudged them off. "I came because I got a few very strange calls. Apparently I'm spending a two-week anniversary I wasn't even aware I was having as a VIP at a concert." He sat down next to Jude, took the donut from her and continued. "See, that's not even that unusual. I often get those crazy invitations. But then I got a call from one of my artists, telling me about some sign on my door that prohibited sex. That's unusual." He began eating the donut, causing Jude to toss him a menacing glare. It was her food! "But imagine – It got even stranger. A friend of mine, an assistant for a life-insurance company, called me to confirm that he'd drop by with the new insurance policies on Wednesday. I can't remember planning on changing my insurance at all!"

As Jude listened to him, a soft red color began to spread over her face. She was a little irritated he was so calm, having half-expected a fit, but what shocked her was that he reached for the bag of her donuts once he had finished his, and reached for yet another one. So, when he asked if she had any comment for that, her only reply was, "this is _**my**_ lunch."

He rolled his eyes and handed her back only half a donut. "You mess with my life, Harrison!"

"Duh! That's what you hired me for!" She knew she had majorly overstepped, especially given the fact she only worked for him for a week, and she did feel a little remorse for that, but she'd do it again anyway. "One: The concert tickets are mine. I just needed your name to get them. Two: The sign on the door is merely self-protecting. I work here too and if I have to call the cleaning service every afternoon because you couldn't find yourself a hotel room for some humping, I will loose valuable work time. Three: Yes, I called the insurance company, because my dad sells insurances and when he found out I work for you, who he knows from the headlines is newly wedded, he asked me to tell you a married man needs different insurances than an unmarried man. I was just taking care of you, as you asked me to!"

"You made this your office?"

Now she gave a sheepish grin. "You work in the studio all day and are barely in here. Whereas I have to do most of my work in your office! Yes, I gave myself the right to officially use this office too. And also," she added, "I sort of already told my friends in school I had my own office, so in order for them not to call me a liar I really had to tag my name sign on that door!"

"Why'd you tell everyone you had your own office?" Tommy wondered in confusion. He had gotten off the couch and now paced up and down the room, suddenly antsy since he was experiencing a very strange, annoying pain in his cheek. He rubbed the sore spot as he stared at Jude, waiting for her answer. He hadn't met a person like her before. She was so – what was the right word? She was…not scared of him! She just did things. Half of what she had said even made sense!

"Are you okay?" She suspiciously watched him rubbing his cheek, thereby ignoring his question. "You got an aching tooth, don't you?" Reaching for the phone, and his arm, she tugged him towards the door. "Let's go to a dentist!"

"NO!" Pulling away from her, he glared angrily. "I don't need a dentist. My tooth is just fine."

"Sure," she disbelievingly sneered.

"Hey!" He didn't like being handled. His tooth wasn't even aching…much.

She took the bag with the donuts and pushed it into his hands. "Eat and prove it!"

He was shocked by her actions. "I will not prove to you that I'm okay! You're not my wife, not my mother, you can't make me!"

"You're right," she agreed nonchalantly. "I'm just your personal assistant. But, since your wife is away for a little while, I'm probably the person you'll be spending the most of your time with until Laura is back. Prepare yourself for long, repeated lectures of why a dentist is necessary."

By now he had forgotten about his tooth and instead developed a headache, something she seemed to trigger very easily. "When was the last time you went to a dentist?"

Jude looked away. "What does it matter? My tooth doesn't hurt!"

"When?" Tommy inquired.

"Three years ago," Jude mumbled. "Like I said – my tooth doesn't hurt!"

This whole talk was getting too much for him and so he sighed heavily as he sat back down on the couch. "So, personal assistant?"

"Change the topic for what I care but the tooth will keep hurting! Anyway, I told you the title was needed. I have to be respected, otherwise I don't get what I want and therefore you don't get what you want. That aside I like the sound of it!"

That got him to laugh. Once again his eyes landed on the bag of donuts. "Seriously," he asked as he pointed towards them, "that's your lunch?"

"What's wrong with that?"

He merely scoffed, got up again, placed a hand on her back, and led her towards the door. "Let me show you what real lunch means. Also, we have some things to discuss."

Intrigued, but also a little nervous, she followed him. What things to discuss?

xxxxxx

"No way. Never. N.E.V.E.R!" Her arms crossed defiantly. Jude glared at Tommy with an intensity he had not ever seen in someone's eyes before. It amazed him not for the first time how clear the blue of her orbs was – like the ocean, wild and untamable, but also quiet and soft at times.

"Look," he tried again, "I know it's a tough job and it's not really fair to make you do this, especially when technically you only work for me, but he's Darius's nephew. He needs someone to…watch him."

"Be his slave, you mean." Jude snorted soundly, rolling her eyes while doing so. "Shay Mills is an asshole. He's selfish, arrogant, and thinks of himself as the God of all men. The way he walks around with his ugly pants nearly falling off his girly hips, or how his bling-bling jewels are too heavy for his back to stay straight, he's the epitome of an idiot and I will not spend my weekend with him just because you're too busy sleeping out!"

Taking a double take at her words, Tommy narrowed his eyes. "Do you know Shay? I mean the way you talk…" She was right in everything she said, but she couldn't possibly know that without knowing him, since Shay paid a lot of money for PR-people to make him seem the perfect gentleman!

"We dated a few years ago."

The cup of coffee Tommy was leading to his mouth stopped mid-air. "Excuse me? You what?" For the first time since he had met her he actually mustered her as a woman, not just as an assistant. With her long blond wavy hair, her slender, feminine figure, and big gullible eyes she was actually very pretty. Not that he hadn't noticed before. He was a man after all! But she was more than _**just**_ pretty. She'd fit Shay's type easily. She'd fit anybody's type easily. Now that he really looked at her, she was actually quite beautiful. But she was Jude and Shay was…well, Shay! "Seriously? For how long?"

Shifting uncomfortably under his penetrating gaze, she shrugged. "A little over two months. He wasn't around much. My sister won tickets to his concert and in lack for an available friend she tugged me along. We met him backstage, he and I got along well, and the next day he showed up at my school and made a big deal out of bringing me flowers. With fifteen," she self-deprecatingly murmured, "I was really flattered and so I agreed when he asked me out. We dated for, like, two weeks before he left for his world tour. When he came back six weeks later, his uncle – _Darius_ – had a party. I guess no one told the person who sent out the invitations that nobody wanted me there, cause when I arrived Shay was…surprised! We got into an argument and in the end I told him to go to hell. Pissed off, I made my way outside towards the reporters, wanting to lash out at Shay, but D had me kicked off his property and after that I never saw him again."

"Wow."

"That's all?" Jude incredulously asked.

"I'm shocked," he admitted. "You actually knew Darius before you started working for me! And of course that you would date Shay!"

"I didn't know Darius. Darius barely remembered my existence when I reminded him that we had met before. He only recalled that I was the one threatening the 'impeccable' reputation of his beloved nephew! But, I guess now you understand why I don't want to play hostess for Shay. And trust me, D wouldn't want me to, either."

"Actually," Tommy corrected her, "I still want you to play hostess." Jude's glare he soothed with a boyish smile. "I really don't have time this weekend!"

"Why not? I made your schedule. Nothing is planned for next weekend. Unless," she menacingly warned, "you plan on cheating on your wife!"

"No," he hissed. "And stop talking about it in public! I can't because my parents-in-law are coming to town. I'm preoccupied playing their host!" Annoyance was written in bold letters on his face. "I'd rather work all weekend, but no – Laura already planned me in."

Jude tried to find sympathy for him, but the fact that he had her play Shay's tour guide only unnerved her. "Boo-hoo," she mocked. Since she had a feeling he'd make her do it no matter how long she whined and protested, Jude at least wanted something in exchange. "I won't do it for free!"

"How much? Hundred dollars?"

She laughed dryly. "Dream on. _**You**_ will go and buy me that vintage acoustic that is on sale at Iggy's guitar store. I don't just want you to pay for it. I actually want you to get into your car, drive there, go inside, take the guitar, pay for it, and then bring it to me. Money alone won't bother you."

"Did you not make my schedule? I don't have time for that! I hired you do those things for me!" His eyes were showing off his unwillingness, but he also had more dreadful things to do than spend a weekend with Shay, so she pretty much had him without an alternative! He bit out a sore, "Fine!"

"Fine," Jude agreed. They proceeded with their lunch.

A few minutes later, it seemed their little tiff hadn't even occurred. Casually he pointed out, "I know you play guitar and that you've got a crazy addiction to Gibson guitars but I never see you play. How long ago did you start?"

Jude shrugged. "I've been playing as long as I can remember. I always wanted to become a singer, but one day reality kicked in and so I settled for a job in the background. What about you? Do you play any instruments?"

"Guitar, piano, bass, drums, some more…"

"Hm."

He looked up, his brows crooked. "Hm-what?"

"Hm-nothing! Just hm."

"But why hm?"

"I don't know. I guess I don't understand why you settled for the crappy music of your past if you actually know how to play so many instruments."

"Butt-shaking was very profitable," he answered honestly. "I didn't care for the music back when I started. That came later. It's one of the reasons I quit. What about you? You give up before even trying as a musician?"

"I did try!" Jude said with more vigor than necessary. Busying herself with her dessert that had just arrived, she hedged around answering truthfully. She wasn't ready to admit to someone she barely knew that her mother had told her flat out she'd never make it, or that her father, albeit believing in her, never objected her mother. She also wasn't ready to admit the real truth, which was that she was simply afraid of the things she was willing to sacrifice for music. At one point it had become an addiction. And she had nearly sold herself for a fix. "Didn't work out as planned."

"You're only eighteen. Seriously, how can you know that? Trying takes time."

"Not always," she reposted. "Sometimes you've got to face the truth and accept it. Things happened, Tommy. I didn't give up. I made a choice. I faced reality. Can we stop talking about that?" It was less a question and more a plea.

He understood, or at least he thought. "Sure. So…you and Shay, huh?"

Throwing a piece of pineapple from her fruit salad at him for that stupid question, Jude laughed when it hit his forehead. "Hundred points for me!"

"Oh yeah?" He tossed back a piece of peach from his own fruit salad. The little sweet bud made it straight into Jude's décolleté. While she gaped in shock, he smugly grinned. "If I weren't married, I'd be so going after that!"

Fishing the fruit out of her blouse – glad it didn't leave a stain on the white material – she then ate it once she got it, cockily smirking at Tommy as she did so. The stunt caused a shiver of arousal to rush up his spine, but he didn't think of it as something Jude caused. It wasn't something another attractive woman couldn't have caused as well. It was simply the fact that something, which had been between a pair of boobs, was now in Jude's mouth. Awkwardly shifting in his chair, he then noticed that they had caught the attention of some other customers at the restaurant. "I don't think food fights are something they like here." His smile was uneasy and he winked for the check.

"Oh God, yeah. Sorry I started it. I'm not usually eating at a place like this. I prefer diners and fast food restaurants."

"I already wondered why you barely touched your food!" He hadn't thought much of it though, until now. "You could have said something. Next time it's Burger King."

"Definitely," Jude smiled and finished up her fruit salad. "Then you'll have to deal with flying French Fries and nobody throws them like I do!"

"Wait until you get hit by a burger," he warned mischievously. His eyes crinkled and not long until both succumbed to laughter. It was a long while since he had actually thrown food at someone, but as he sat there with Jude, he found he liked it. Odd as it was, Jude made him feel at ease with himself no matter where they were.

xxxxxx

Later that night, Tommy was sitting at a newly opened bar, drinking some designer cocktail which was going for way over ten dollars each glass. In every other bar it would go as a five-dollar dirty martini. Here they sold the overpriced mix as a 'French Seduction'. Next to him Kwest had just landed himself some company for the night. It was close to midnight, and by now he'd usually have his date for the night ready to go, but tonight something was holding him back. It wasn't the platinum wedding band he had conveniently forgotten on his nightstand earlier, or the fact that he sworn in front of a ridiculously Elvis-lookalike priest that he'd never cheat on his wife, or that Laura had called him an hour ago to remind him she loved him. No, it wasn't all that. Each time he found a pretty enough woman in the crowd, and was about to go over, he remembered Jude's words of how she'd be unhappy having to cover up his betrayal.

She was working for him for just about a week, and somehow she had made herself entirely indispensable to him. He wasn't used to that sort of response to someone. He had built his life around the idea that nobody was irreplaceable. Jude didn't fit into that picture.

Getting nudged from the left, Tommy turned his head to Kwest, whose hand was somewhere below the equator of a pretty brunette. "I'm leaving. You're okay?"

"Just go," he told his friend, not in the mood of talking anyway. As he watched Kwest stumbling out of the bar, his mouth on said brunette, Tommy suddenly spotted the head of a blonde that seemed awfully familiar. Jude? What was she doing here? Not long until she, and the group of people she was with, reached the bar, and once she spotted him too, a wide smile rose on her lips. "Quincy."

"Harrison."

"Two Harrisons," a voice corrected. Then a perfectly manicured hand came from behind Jude, snaked around her shoulder, and shook Tommy's. "I'm Sadie. Jude's sister. Also, I'm a huge fan of yours!"

He smiled as he always did to compliments like this, empty but trained-charmingly, and when the sister returned her attention towards the bar, Tommy lifted a questioning brow at Jude. "You didn't say you had a pretty blonde sister."

"For a reason. So, what'cha doing here? The schedule I made implied you had to stay at home tonight, to avoid any possible opportunity to become unfaithful to your wife."

Instead of being offended, he grinned. "Oh, how you trust me…"

Jude laughed, her head falling back as she did so, revealing a long neck, and more of that décolleté where a few hours ago a very sweet piece of peach had rested in. He licked his lips unconsciously. "I do trust you when it comes to paying me, or picking me up in time, or whatever. I don't trust your libido! Here's too much temptation."

The greatest being right in front of him, he wanted to say, but stopped himself. Knowing that the smartest move would be to catch a cab and head home, he thoroughly ignored that idea. "You want something to drink?"

"I don't think that's a good idea!" She stepped towards him, leaned closer, her lips brushing his earlobe. He could smell she was inebriated and chuckled when she whispered, "I'm not Jude tonight. I'm Julia. Sadie's twenty-one year old college friend. We went to two other bars already. I had a lot of those strawberry daiquiris. They were _so_ good!"

She had definitely had too much of them, but he didn't mind the fact that she was a bit tipsy plus she was one of those who tended to become touchy/feely when drunk, something he experienced first hand. It made her very friendly, and not before long she had her left arm around his neck, while talking with Sadie and the other, equally drunk girls that were with them. He didn't say much, but listened, and laughed at the stories, which he was sure they'd regret telling the next day. With his arm a little more than just loosely around her, she had maneuvered herself comfortably between his legs, her butt cheeks snuggled against his semi-hard erection. He was utterly enjoying the short, low cut silk dress she was wearing. Not sure whether he should bet on it, he was however pretty sure she was feeling his arousal. She just wasn't reacting to it. By now he had stopped drinking martini, and instead had joined Jude in her thirst for fruity cocktails.

After another round of drinks, Sadie and the other three girls left for the dance floor, while Jude leaned backwards, feeling unreasonably comfortable in Tommy's arms. It had slipped from her mind by then that he was married, or that she probably shouldn't be this close to a man that was her boss. In this moment, he was just Tommy, the guy with the warm, muscled body, the strong arms, the big hands, and with sneaky fingers that occasionally danced across her lower body, triggering reactions she'd never felt before. Of course she could feel that he got harder with each movement her hips made. A subconscious part of her may have even encouraged it by wiggling a little harder than necessary. "I like this bar," she breathed between small puffs of air, in a throaty manner that had Tommy gulping hard.

"Me too," he agreed. His lips were drifting closer to her neck with every breath he took. Should he take this step? Should he lean in the last inch, and take a bite of the forbidden woman in his arms? He knew she wouldn't mind much. By now he was hard, and could tell she was teasing him with her slowly swaying hips. There had been an initial attraction between them, but because of his wife, and because of the job he wanted Jude for, he hadn't pursued it, hadn't even thought much about it, but right now it was very hard to ignore, more – it was the only thing on his mind. Especially when she pressed her butt against him as she did now. "Stop," he rasped, hoping she'd get what he tried to convey.

Jude did understand. However, she ignored it. "You like it," she whispered, rubbing more against him. Covering his hands with hers, she moved them up and down the front of her dress, down her legs, far enough to touch the bare skin where material ended. Then up again, giving a tiny moan in the process. This was torture. Gripping her hands tightly, he pulled her body further into his arms, hurled her more ardently against his cock to raise the friction. What was he doing? Trying to rub off against his assistant's ass in a crowded bar? They were doomed to get noticed at some point! He knew he needed to leave, but holding him back was Jude, and the question whether or not he should take her with him. God, he wanted her bad! Everything about her was insanely arousing, from her drunken state to her little purrs. Both stopped their maddening movements when Sadie and her friends returned, and before he could stop any of them, the older sister pulled Jude with her, tossing a faint, "We're heading for the next bar," towards Tommy before leaving. For better or worse, this had ended not the way he had wanted it to end.

It felt like a nightmare from which he couldn't wake up. Hard and unsatisfied, he made his way into the men's room, knowing he'd never make it home in this state. So he got off, and then made his way home alone. It was a horrible dream, and he wasn't sure it would end once the weekend was over. What would Jude say when they met again Monday? Would she even show up? Once sober, she'd remember her morals and values, which he found strangely charming, albeit they were the very things that kept him from ever having her – at least in a sober state. But what if he ever got her alone – and drunk? He'd still be married. Would she go for him?

He shook his head and came to the conclusion that it was best of all persons included that he never got drunk with Jude again!


	6. Chapter 6

_**Chapter five. The lying starts...**_

She didn't know what had gotten into her. As Jude emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet, she not only suffered from a severe headache, _and_ some major cramps in her belly, but also from an acute case of guilt. _Seriously, what had she been thinking?_ She had practically given Tommy a lap-dace! This was bad. _No_ – this was _really_ bad! This even topped keying Shay's BMW after he had made out with that blond slut. And, it topped that one time where she had had stolen Sadie's cell phone to call a number one of her friends had told her was Bono's. He had supposedly been in Spain at the time and Sadie had to pay a hundred and forty dollars for a call she had never made! It maybe even topped that one particular time three years ago, when she learned that alcohol was a dangerous toy to play with. Then again, that lesson she had hardly remembered today, had she? Yeah, tonight would definitely make the new number one on Jude's hit list of the ten most idiotic things done before turning twenty-one. Exhaustedly brushing the sticky strands of hair out of her face, Jude groaned heavily.

Luckily, Sadie returned with a glass of ice water and some aspirin. Ruefully looking upwards, Jude tried her hardest to speak without hurling again. "Thanks for saving my ass earlier. If you hadn't pulled me away from Tommy, I might have gone home with him." The thought of it disgusted her. He was married! "I'm a horrible person. I rambled on about how awful I'd find it if he cheated and then I go and offer myself for it!

"Calm down," Sadie soothed, holding a wet cloth to her little sister's forehead. "You were drunk. We now know that's not a good thing."

Jude rolled her eyes as she swallowed the aspirin. "What am I supposed to do now?"

"Talk to him?"

"And humiliate myself? Never." She'd rather quit and hide in this bathroom for the rest of her life!

Sadie shook her head. Sometimes her sister could be more than just immature – this was full-blown cowardliness at its best. But, she did have pity with her. "Then lie. Pretend you can't remember a thing. If he's a nice guy, he won't remind you of what you two did, but if he's an idiot and brings it up, you can – I don't know – run away in shame?"

"Funny!"

"Keep hurling," Sadie sneered and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. "We have a different problem that's more important. I just checked Mom's bedroom. She's not at home. That's the fourth night in a row. I think this thing between her and that lawyer is getting serious."

"Great." Last year Victoria Harrison had found out by accident that her husband Stuart had an ongoing affair with some travel agent who worked for his company. After having fought about it for months, shortly before Jude's eighteenth birthday they had finally filed for divorce. It had been a tough fact to accept, but now both Harrison sisters knew it was for the best. Both their parents seemed happier this way. Most of the times, Stuart was at home, wanting to be around his kids, although he had a new apartment. Victoria however had decided she wasn't made to be single, and so spent most of her nights out with her divorce lawyer. "I think," Jude sighed, "we have to accept him as part of mom's life."

Sadie's face fell. "Guess so. Let's talk about yet another something else: Shay is coming to town, I've heard."

How come bad news travelled so fast? "Don't you have to get back to college, or so?"

"Loser," Sadie jested. "You still like him!"

"No I don't! He cheated on me."

"But, you _**still**_ like him. Or, are you in love with Tommy now? After tonight – I mean you don't usually hump men like that! Actually, I don't think I've ever seen you humping a man!"

"Get lost!"

xxxxx

The next Monday, Jude was shifting from one butt cheek to another, nervously awaiting the moment Tommy would drop by from studio A. Hopefully, he'd not bring last Friday's events up. She'd not know how to handle that. Ever since that night, her head was in a steady uproar. Sadie's words had confused her. Did she like Tommy more than she ought to? He was charming, nice, devastatingly good-looking, and had a smile to die for. But also, he was very married, and very unfaithful, though…not really.

Sweat built on her forehead when she saw from through the open office door that he was approaching. He looked…normal. At least he didn't appear angry, which right now she considered a good thing. Then again, why'd he be angry with her? _He_ was the married person and _he_ hadn't pushed her away last Friday, either!

Standing up, preparing to run away if she had to, she fished for a document she could hand to him as an excuse to talk business. Then he entered. Her breath hitched. To not let this moment become an awkward one, she asked as nonchalantly as she could muster, "How was your weekend?"

He eyed her skeptically. When she pushed a paper into his hands, he had to take a double take, not sure of this was the same Jude he remembered from last Friday's bar experience. "It was _interesting_." He put it carefully. "So, where'd you go after your sister pulled you away from the bar?"

"Honestly," she sheepishly laughed, with genuine red cheeks, "I don't remember much. I barely remember having met you there. In the cab I started vomiting and the rest of the night was somehow over then. Guess I had a black out, or so."

_How convenient_, he wanted to remark. Not sure if she was telling the truth, however, he could see she wasn't comfortable speaking about what had happened. Whether or not she did remember what they had done wasn't even important. What mattered was the fact that he was married, she his assistant, and that they had to work together. Real or not, the blank spots on her mind might just be a lucky turn of events. "Fine then. You're feeling better today?"

"Absolutely!" She could see by the way he looked at her, that he had his doubts about her story. But, he didn't voice said thoughts and instead remained professional. Maybe he was just as embarrassed as she was. He must have known too that they couldn't happen, and that the moment at the bar was a huge slip of judgment. "So…Laura is coming back tomorrow. Anything I need to do? Call a car-service? Order some flowers?"

"Um sure. I guess she'd like flowers." Figuring that was all they'd ever talk about the moment they had shared, he decided it was the best if he forgot about it as soon as possible. And what better way to do so than to think about his wife instead. So he picked up Jude's suggestion, trying to remember his wife's favorite flowers, only to realize in embarrassment, "I don't know what her favorite flowers are."

Relieved he didn't say more about that Friday, Jude returned to being his valuable assistant. "Red tulips. She handed me a list with the most important facts about her, which she correctly guessed you had no idea about."

He gave her a bothered look. "Those being?" Tommy wasn't sure if he should be offended his wife was convinced he didn't knew a thing about her, or be glad she was right to assume so.

"Favorite flowers," Jude quipped. "Also, her blood type in case you'd have to find a donor. Her shoe size in case you'd need a gift for her. And a picture of a Henry Winston necklace, in case you'd cheat—"

"Give me the picture," he demanded.

Jude laughed. It amazed her how quickly she could switch from emotion to emotion around him. One moment she was embarrassed to the very core of her being, but in the next moment she was laughing and completely at ease with him and herself. It was startling. Seeing his shocked reaction to her joke, she smirked. "Just kidding! There's no picture. Just the note that should she ever catch you cheating, she'd expect said necklace from you." His facial reaction only spurred on her amusement. "She knows what she wants, and she knows how to handle you! Oh, something else!" She reached for a post-it that glued to her desktop. "Someone named," Jude's nose wrinkled before air-quoting, **"**_'The Chazman'_ called. He asked several questions about what I was wearing as I was speaking to him, and on an afterthought he remembered telling me to tell you that you two were having a – and I quote again – _'damned important meeting'_ tomorrow night. Can I assume that that moron was Chaz Blackburn from Boyz Attack?"

Dropping into the chair behind him, Tommy nodded. "I totally forgot about him. He, like everyone else, read about the marriage and now wants to throw a post-wedding bachelor party. Not that I'm opposed to strippers and hookers in general. As a matter of fact I've enjoyed their services very often." He felt no shame admitting that. "But Chaz and Laura hate each other guts. If she finds out I met up with him for an orgy, as I'm sure she'll call it that, my temporarily peaceful life will become hell all over again." It was then that something snapped in his head. "_But_, now that I have you working for me, you can make sure—"

"That you won't have time to meet Chaz," Jude suggested readily.

Tommy shook his head with a rakish grin. "You can make sure she'll never find out. Create a diversion. Make sure there are no paparazzi at the club. Call in some fake sighting of me at the other site of town. Oh, and have a few gifts for Laura prepared, just in case she does get suspicious. And, maybe some … I don't know – what it is that married women expect from their husbands?"

He asked so sincerely that Jude nearly dropped her jaw. Not biting back a snort, she listed, "Faithfulness? Honesty? Attention? Time?"

"Chocolate and flowers will do."

Jude's head fell. "Sure."

xxxxxxx

As she slowly, and reluctantly, untangled from Tommy's body, Laura gave a small pout. "I can't believe you're having a business meeting tonight. You knew I'd be back and couldn't postpone it?"

Tommy zipped his pants up and pecked his wife's lips as she still lay half-naked on the couch in his office. With her bra on, but her panties gone, she looked quite tempting, but not enough to make him actually consider a second round. For now he was satisfied. "It came up all of sudden, and it's really important." The business meeting was what he and Jude had come up with to cover to the bachelor party he'd visit tonight. He'd stay in the hotel – so he wouldn't raise suspicion by showing up at home, drunk and smelling of cheap stripper perfume – and then he'd then return home the next morning, more or less well rested. "I'll head for the restaurant when I'm done here, so you don't have to wait, darling. And I'll stay in the hotel so I won't have to drive home that late."

She smiled at the affectionate name. "Okay, well if you have to… But if you're gone the whole night, at least have some more fun with me now…" Provocatively sitting up, spreading her legs for him to see as she did so, he was actually considering the offer, but then his unlocked office door flew open, and Jude, instead of him, gaped at a certain non-public area of his wife.

"Shit! Get out," Laura screeched, frantically searching for something to cover herself with.

Jude stumbled backwards, but not before stubbornly reminding the both of them, "The sign on the door says 'no sex' in here! Damn, lock the door next time!"

Tommy couldn't keep from laughing at the expression his wife did. "Relax. She's a woman too. There ain't any parts on you she doesn't have too."

That comment however didn't sit well with his wife at all. "What's that supposed to mean? I'm nothing special to you? She just saw me naked! Lock your door next time." Hastily getting dressed, she kept glaring at Tommy, whose mood was drifting away in that moment. Two minutes later, Jude knocked on the door. "Is it safe now? I need something from my desk!"

"Her desk?" Laura repeated, irritated. "Doesn't she mean _your_ desk?"

Merely rolling his eyes, Tommy opened the door. "Come in, she's dressed." He had forgotten though to put on his shirt, which his wife just then tossed at him.

Uncomfortably, yet too stubborn to leave, Jude settled behind her desk, and searched for Tommy's printed schedule of next Thursday, for Darius wanted to approve of it. Without actually wanting to, her eyes kept drifting towards Quincy's nicely framed body. He did not look bad. And those hard muscles she had felt the other day were actually looking very nicely now that she saw them. Afraid she'd end up gaping at him, she quickly busied herself with other things. "Sorry for before. I didn't know someone was in here."

Tommy just shrugged, but Laura cast a menacing look. "Well, next time you know better. Always knock. Wasn't that your rule? I mean it says so on the door!"

"Right where it says 'no sex'," Jude murmured, ignoring the fire the other woman's eyes. When Tommy dared to chuckle, both girls glared at him.

"Okay, I'm out of here. I have work waiting." He wasn't so sure if leaving both girls alone would be such a smart idea, but staying seemed even stupider.

Once gone, his wife stood up and took the final adjustments at her outfit. "Did he cheat on me while I was away?"

The pen dropped from Jude's hand. That had come out of nowhere! "Um – no?"

"That sounded really convincing." She walked over to the desk, sat down on an edge, and observed Jude, who tried to resume working as if really nothing had happened. Technically, no actual cheating had taken place. At least none Jude knew of! A perfectly manicured hand covered Jude's busy one and when with uncertain eyes Jude looked up, Laura sweetly smiled. "I know Tommy is a very nice, very convincing, charming man. He probably even asked you to lie for him. But see, he is my husband after all, and I think that if he cheated on me, I'd have a right to know. Don't you think? How'd you feel in my place?"

How would she feel? How had she felt when she had seen Shay and that bleached bimbo Eden sucking mouths? Devastated. Betrayed. Hurt. But, although Jude _**could**_ relate to Laura, she still couldn't bring herself to admit that Quincy's wife had every reason to be suspicious. Tommy had become a friend, in an odd sense, and so her loyalty lay with him. That aside, she hardly believed that nice tone Laura was using on her. She didn't trust that fake tone one bit. "He was working late. And, as far as I know, nothing happened. If you however remain in doubt, you can always ask Tommy. Or Kwest. I believe the two of them spent Friday night in a bar."

Laura's face turned a darker, more intimidating shade. She hated not being able to gain more information from Jude. "I will. Thanks for not helping me at all. Now if you could just hand me the phone number and address of the hotel Tom will stay at tonight, I'd be eternally grateful!"

Wow. When Tommy had told her that a simple alibi wouldn't be enough to keep his wife from finding out about the bachelor party, Jude had laughed. Now she was grateful Tommy had made her set up a complete, bulletproof, verifiable story! The concierge working at the hotel was an old friend of Tommy and made sure no one would spill anything about the bachelor party that would go down there tonight. "The Toronto Paradise Hotel." She took a post-it from her desktop – she had fallen in love with those bright-colored, sticky things – and handed it over. Address, number, and room." The hotel would make sure not to let anyone reach Tommy's hotel room directly. They'd end up at the reception first.

Meanwhile, an artist of G-Major, whose CD had gone platinum, would have a very public birthday party with lots of other famous people, and there all the paparazzi were hoped to be. In times like these, Jude figured she could just as well have started working for the CIA. She was becoming quite good in shielding some facts. "You have anything else I can do for you?" This time it was on Jude to use the fake, sugary voice.

"No thanks. That'd be all. Just – one more little thing: The next time you see my husband shirtless, try not to drool all over his desk!" As Laura swayed out of the office, Jude once again mumbled a snappish "Bitch!"

xxxxxx

"So," Tommy wondered later that night when he returned into his office to gather the rest of his things before heading out. "How'd it go with Laura? She ripped your head off?"

"Like she could," Jude disbelievingly reposted. Tommy smiled, liking the confidence in her voice, and the fact that Jude didn't bow easily in front of others.

"Where'd you go?" she asked as she collected her stuff, ready to go home. "You weren't in the studio. I know because Darius made me search you."

He laughed again. "I had to make a quick run." He reached behind the open door and handed her a big brown box, saying 'Iggy's.' "You wanted me to get you this. I promised, and here it is."

With bright, sparkling eyes, Jude ripped the box apart, gasping at the item she discovered inside. "That's not the – this is…"

"A brand new Gibson Acoustic. I've got the same and I figured if you're as good a player as you claim, you need a good guitar." Something about her eyes had him smiling a little wider than usual. She was genuinely happy. He had seen happy women before, having handed over jewelry more than once, but this time it was different. There was something else. He had a feeling she was actually blown away by his gift. "You like it?" He chuckled as he asked, able to tell by the happiness on her face she was in love with it.

"But – This – I…"

He leaned closer to her. She was truly mesmerizing in that second. Covering her stuttering lips with his finger, he shook his head. "Just say 'thank you.'" She must have been stunned by the worth of this present, but to him it wasn't that much, and the joy on her face even made him forget the ten minutes of searching for a parking lot he had to endure when picking the guitar up.

"Thank you," Jude finally said. "You rock!"

With eyes turning a boyish but cocky shade, he shrugged. "I know." Noticing how late it was already, he smiled a little less and noted he was actually sad he had to leave. "Time's running, and Chaz is waiting…"

"Go! I don't want to hold you back!" As he made his way out the door, she found herself staring after him. This was the best present someone had ever gotten her, and he had not just gotten it because he could afford it, but also because he remembered she played the guitar. And, he told her he had the same, which meant he actually really put a thought into what would be a good guitar for someone who played it. Sitting back in the chair, awing the masterpiece in front of her, the happy expression on her face slowly faded. This was Tommy. He was a rich guy. She shouldn't think too much of his actions, otherwise she was headed for a major problem. He was married. She had to remember that for both of their sakes, for he would surely forget it eventually.

xxxxxx

The next day, Tommy wasn't feeling well. It wasn't because he had drunken his ass off last night, or because he – to his own surprise – had actually managed to stay faithful to his wife, a minor little kiss with some stripper aside. It wasn't even the fact that the kiss had been with a blond stripper, who had sported a faint resemblance to a certain assistant he had. It also weren't the million and one calls Laura had bothered him with the whole morning, until he had finally had enough and gone back home. It was something else. If only he knew what it was…

Kwest, whose attention had so far been on their artist – where it ought to be – slapped Tommy's arm. "Hey, wake up! Partied too much? I went home before you did."

"No. I don't know." His brows furrowed. Wiping his face with his hand, as if that could mysteriously make him feel better, he was disappointed to find it had not worked at all. "Something is wrong. I can't put a finger on it. It's like I forgot something, or something is missing." It was six pm, and he had that feeling for over an hour by now. It was unsettling.

"Something your wife told you?" Kwest took his headphones off and signaled for the artist to call it a day. "Some anniversary? A thing you had to pick up?"

"No…" He shook his head, wrecking every sore crevice. _**Something**_ wasn't right. But what? "Anyway," he asked with the absence of someone who hardly cared, "how'd it go with that brunette last weekend?"

"Okay. She wasn't that funny once we were sober again."

"They never are," Tommy agreed and had to laugh.

"How'd your night end? Last night was a bash, but I'm stunned you managed to keep your pants on. Did you ever meet someone worth cheating with last Friday, after I left?"

As he thought about last Friday, something hit him. "Jude! Damn, I knew something was missing!" With no further word, he hurried out, his cell in hand, leaving Kwest as confused as possible.

xxxxxx

Jude tossed her headphones onto the mattress and as carefully as possible sat the guitar back into its case, afraid the wrong move might make it shatter apart. Once done, she went to defter movements. Stomping downstairs, annoyed the bothering guest in front of the door hadn't yet understood she wasn't in the mood for visitors, Jude bit out some incoherent curse. If someone didn't open after four rings, one would likely assume no one was home. Or not? She pulled the door open and gaped in shock. "Quincy? How do you know where I live?"

"By the address on your resume. Where the hell have you been? You didn't show up at work today. I was worried!" He stepped inside, brushed past a startled Jude, and then stared angrily at her. "If you can't come in, call, and tell me so!"

She didn't know what to say. "You were worried? Like, for real?"

"Yes," he seethed. "Every day since you work for me you drop by in studio at four-thirty pm. Today you didn't, and it really confused me, because something was wrong and for an eternity I was worried I had forgotten something and, until Kwest mentioned something, I couldn't even figure out what it was! I don't like that particular feeling, Jude. It's not nice. Next time you can't come, call, and I don't have to feel weird!"

Teeth sank into her lower lip as she tried to control herself, but eventually she gave up. Curling in laughter, Jude was soon out of breath. "You were actually worried, without even knowing you were worried? That's just too funny!"

Tommy however didn't share her opinion at all. "No, it isn't!"

"What did Kwest say that reminded you of me?" she asked through loud giggles.

He had mentioned last Friday, but Jude didn't need to know that. "That's completely besides the point. Just call next time? Okay?"

"Okay, okay." She got that he was serious and urged herself to calm down. "Sorry I had you worrying about me. But, I think it's nice you actually drove by to make sure I was alright."

"I came to scold you," he corrected. "I figured you'd be alright!"

"That's why you were worried," she mocked.

He shot her one of those biting looks that told her she was pushing it, but Jude didn't back down. Instead, she countered with an own, piercing look. After a minute Tommy averted his eyes and went to close the door. From the inside! Jude was dumbfounded all over again. Did he plan on staying? They had just reinsured she was safe and fine. What reason did he have for staying? "Don't you have your wife waiting for you?"

"No. She's out, working. My work is done and I have no plans. Why don't you get your guitar," he suggested as he took his jacket off, "and show me how good of a player you really are?" There was something challenging in his eyes and Jude never backed down from a challenge. Or maybe there was nothing but interest in his eyes and she just liked the idea of having him around for a little while longer. In any way, she hurried upstairs, took two steps at once, and called from upstairs that she'd "be right back!"

With a chuckle he nodded. Tossing his jacket over the couch, he then sat down and took a look around the living room. It was a pretty nice place. Not as small as he had imagined. She had mentioned her parents were divorced and he had figured she'd be living in a small apartment, or a little house. This was a big house. The living room was designed in light, white and creamy colors, with a fireplace and an adjoined kitchen. Truth be told, he liked it much more here than he liked it at his own place, where bright designer wallpapers had taken over his soft colored walls the day Laura had moved in. An uncomfortable, lemon green couch had replaced his comfortable leather one. He had once tried to have sex on it, but his wife had told him the expensive material wasn't made for it. He had never tried again.

"Getting cozy already," she smirked when she found him with his legs stretched out.

His eyes brightened as he smiled back. "I really like it here!"

"Me too. Just not on this couch," she murmured. "Many people have mated on it."

He jumped up. With a crooked brow he followed her to the floor, the carpet being surprisingly soft. "You too?"

"No," she sighed. "Shay and I were close to it, once, but then my dad came home and—"

"I really don't need to know about you and Shay," he affirmed with vigor as he took the guitar from her. "But if your Dad kicked his ass, please tell me you have pictures of that!"

"What's it with you and him?" Jude tried to get her guitar back, but he just turned away from her, all the while having that boyish, happy grin on his face. He was already adjusting the guitar, making Jude realize he intended to play it.

"Long story. Eventually he just started to frustrate me by playing the music genius. He's not without talent, but his arrogance is really annoying."

"Yeah, at times he forgets he's not the only one walking the earth."

"No," Tommy agreed. "He thinks he can do it all without hurting others." It momentarily overshadowed his mood to realize he was as bad as Shay and had no right to be condescending. Something struck him at that and he wondered almost in amazement, "Why do you work for me? Obviously, he has hurt you. You were his girlfriend and he must have said or done something that made you break up with him. Did he cheat on you?" With Shay, it was a likely assumption. "I'm just asking, because, you know, I asked you to lie for me should I it and…"

Jude looked away. "There's more to it. There's always a story behind things, Quincy. It would be much simpler if things were black and white, but they are multicolored. And the only reason I'm working for you – all crap included – is the money and the opportunities you can get me," she lied. She'd never admit how much she had come to like him. "One day I'll tell you the whole story about me and him, but for now I just want to hear how badly you screw up playing my guitar." She tapped the guitar and smiled. "Go, start! And sing something, too!"

Tommy could tell that she wasn't willing to spill her guts to him and so he let her change the topic back to what it had initially been about. "I only play the guitar! But you can sing, right? You said you've tried it as singer."

As her cheeks reddened, Jude shifted nervously. "I'm not that good of a singer. Really, I _**play**_ much better! My voice is like…squeaky and…croaky."

"I've listened to enough demo tapes in my life, Harrison. I can endure a bad voice. Would it help if I said 'please'?" He hardly believed her voice was bad. Jude didn't strike him as the type of girl that wasn't able to differ between a good and a bad voice. If she had tried as she had claimed, she _**could**_ sing.

"Would it help if you said 'please'?" Jude pondered. "No, but try anyway."

Tommy chuckled. Making a big show of it, he leaned forward, took her hand and pulled his mouth into a pout. "Please."

She tapped her chin and frowned for a moment. Then she burst up laughing. "Nope, didn't help. Give me my guitar. You'll break it!"

"I can assure you I won't! But," he threatened playfully, "if you don't sing I might keep it!" With his eyes doing that convincing, admittedly charming look again, Jude caved, and turned away from him. She couldn't quite persuade herself he'd actually keep her new, most precious guitar, but she didn't know him enough to risk it.

Her face softened and as amusement made room for shyness, she asked, "What do you want me to sing?"

Tommy smiled in victory "Oh," he smirked, "You'll know that one!" And then he started playing the first tunes of Boyz Attack's biggest hit – _**Pick up the Pieces**_.

First Jude laughed, easing up at that and, eventually, she started to sing.

As he listened to her, he barely remembered playing the notes, even missed quite a few. He was too sidetracked by her voice, which he found he could only describe as incredible. In his entire five years as a producer, he had not once worked with someone as gifted as her. Now he regretted suggesting this song and hoped she'd sing another, better one, afterwards. Every note she hit instantly. The variety of her octaves was astounding. The song was weak at best and yet she made a gorgeous acoustic ballad out of it by delivering each word with more emotion than he had been able to do in his entire time as a boy band heartthrob. He couldn't believe she had given up pursuing her dreams, even wondered if she had ever really started. There wasn't one sane person in the biz who'd turn someone as beautiful and talented as her down! While his fingers kept strumming the strings, he recalled her words when she had told him about having had to face the tough reality. Maybe someone had after all told her she wasn't good enough. That moron should be duck-taped!

When she finished her last note, Tommy stopped playing and actually started applauding. Jude blushed even more and still refused to fully look at him. Embarrassedly urging him to stop, she hoped dearly he wasn't mocking her. Whenever she sang, alone or – though it barely ever happened – in front of someone else, she instantly found herself being overly emotional.

"Whoever made you stop singing should be punished." When her eyes finally met his, he sincerely proposed, "Sign at G-Major. Let's go there now. I'll sign you right away." He wasn't even doing this as some sort of nice gesture. The producer in him really, _**really**_ wanted her signed. He wanted to work with her. Partially out of selfishness, he had to admit. Lately he had grown tired of always working with the same type of artist, who was only did it for the fame, who didn't care for the song they were singing.

Jude went from embarrassed to angry. After years of doubting herself, she couldn't believe he meant it. "It's not funny, Tommy! Don't joke about this."

Placing the guitar away, he scooted towards her. Tilting his face so she'd not turn away again, he saw so many different emotions in her troubled blue orbs that he was struck for a moment. "I wasn't joking," he assured earnestly. Not letting go of her face, his thumb softly brushed her chin. Why he did that, he couldn't say. "Look at me. I want you to sign. You're an _**amazing**_ singer."

"I also write my own songs," she murmured stoically. He didn't have a doubt those were great. "I'm not a singer." Savoring the odd feeling his touch conveyed, she closed her eyes. That look he was giving her was plain mean for it made her want things she knew she could never have, although she'd not have been able to put a name to them if asked. Confused, and a tad bit annoyed he had put her into this position, she shook her head. "I told you, there's a story to everything. You have a reason you stay married to Laura, and I have a reason not to sing. I appreciate your offer." It was one of the greatest compliments she had ever gotten. "You have no idea how much it means to me, knowing someone would actually want to work with me on my music." She scooted away from him. "But that won't change a thing. I stopped singing, and I won't start again."

"Give me a reason," Tommy nearly begged, "just one!" He just couldn't understand how she could not want to sign.

Her lips gave away into a sad smile, as did her eyes. "Life."

Angered by her vague answer, he, however, remained from prying any further. She was right. He had his reasons, and she had hers. Nonetheless, one day he wished she'd find him, and tell him a little bit more about her decision to give up on a huge chance. For now he accepted her reluctance. Still unwilling to leave though, he allowed his smile to return, and handed her back her adored instrument. "Do I still get to hear you play?"

"What song," Jude asked as she placed the guitar in her lap.

"Don't care as long as you'll sing, too." She was already opening her mouth to protest when he stopped her again, tapping the tip of his finger against her lips. "No one but me is here. Play one of your own songs. Please."

There was this voice again. The soft sound, delivering demands, wrapped up in hushed pleas. It was a dangerous sound that always caught her off guard and never left her without at least one unwelcome, yet magnificent flutter. He must know what effect he had on others, especially on her. Sometimes she thought she could even see so in his eyes. The little flicker of pride when he got what he wanted. It was there now when she started singing.

_**I'm not listening to you**_

_**I am wandering right through existence**_

_**With no purpose and no drive**_

_**'Cause in the end we're all alive, alive**_

_**Two thousand years I've been awake**_

_**Waiting for the day to shake**_

_**To all of you who've wronged me**_

_**I am, I am a zombie**_

_**Again, again you want me to fall on my head**_

_**I am, I am, I am a zombie**_

_**How low, how low, how low will you push me**_

_**To go, to go, to go, before I lay, lay down dead**_

As he listened to her lyrics, he grew more and more convinced that someone had told her a while ago that she wasn't good enough. He couldn't help but wonder who that person had been. Jude must have been very close to him or her for actually believing said person. The impact seemed too deep to come from someone unimportant, like, for example a representative of a music company. To him, she wasn't a person who gave up easily. She was tough and had a plan for her life. She knew what she wanted and she was wise and mature for her age. She was smart and witty, and confident. She was no one to let other people walk over her. However it was that had made her quit her dream, he really wished she'd have told him to shut up.

_**Blow the smoke right off the tube**_

_**Kiss my gentle burning bruise**_

_**I'm lost in time**_

_**And to all the people left behind**_

_**You are walking dumb and blind, blind**_

_**And two thousand years I've been awake**_

_**Waiting for the day to shake**_

_**Dear all of you who've wronged me**_

_**I am, I am a zombie**_

_**Again, again you want me to fall on my head**_

_**I am, I am, I am a zombie**_

_**How low, how low, how low will you push me**_

_**To go, to go, to go, before I lay, lay down dead**_

_**Oh dead, Oh dead, Oh dead**_

_**To all of you who've wronged me**_

_**I am, I am a zombie**_

_**Again, again you want me to fall on my head**_

_**I am I am I am a zombie**_

_**How low, how low, how low will you push me**_

_**To go, to go, to go, before I lie down dead**_

When she stopped singing, she had tears in her eyes. Abruptly pushing the guitar into Tommy's arms, she jumped up and disappeared up the stairs. He wasn't sure if he should follow, or whether she even wanted him to. But he couldn't just leave, especially now, when he had been the one to push her in the first place.

"She'll not be down for a while," someone said. Quickly looking up towards the hallway, he found her sister standing there.

"Sadie, right?"

She nodded. Placing a wet umbrella aside and then taking off her jacket, she kept an eye steadily aimed at the stairs. "I heard her singing and didn't want to interrupt. She hasn't sung in years as far as I know. Especially not her own stuff!" No sound was coming from upstairs and so Sadie walked over into the living room and took a seat on the couch. Tommy sat down next to her, no longer remembering what Jude had told him about that exact piece of furniture. "I never understood why she stopped singing," Sadie admitted. "I always thought she was stronger than that."

"Than what?" A strange emotion was spreading through his body. Something that resembled the worry he had experienced earlier, but also something else. Something more. He felt for Jude. A part of him wanted to mend her world. He had never had a wish like that.

"Around the time she was fifteen, she was pretty eager to try as a singer. She signed up for contests and open mike nights. She wasn't bad, but young. Her songs were far from what you've just heard. But she could sing. Our parents were never a fan of that. Dad loves music as much as Jude does, but even more he wants to know we have a solid education and a job to support ourselves. Mom thinks the same. Only she was always a little more ambitious. She saw Jude as a doctor or a lawyer. There was a moment when Jude had been close to a music career, though. A contest. All Jude needed was a signature from our parents. Mom refused. Dad would have signed, but…well, our parents had troubles and he didn't want to upset mom any further, so he refused. Jude gave up in that moment."

"Because of a missing signature?"

"Because mom told her she'd never make it and that trying was a waste of time. Jude could have handled that, but dad, whom she admired more than anyone, never stood up for her. He let Jude believe mom was speaking for the both of them. Something snapped in Jude. She changed afterwards. She didn't stop writing right away. I always heard her playing and singing at nights. Her songs became more mature. Initially," Sadie remembered with a smile, "Jude wrote like fifty songs a week. Then however she wrote maybe one. But those songs were amazing. She worked so hard on them, poured her whole heart into them. Then, one day, she was done. She placed the guitar back into her closet, hid her journal, and set on a false smile. Occasionally she still plays the guitar, but until now I think she hasn't sung in two years."

"I had no idea." It was sad that her own parents had made her feel talentless when in reality she was anything but that. "I'd sign her right away." Sadie's eyes widened. "I told her. She all but slapped me for that."

"If I were you, I'd keep pushing. After all, you got her to sing again." Both heads turned around when Jude came back down the stairs, carrying the exact false smile Sadie had just mentioned.

"Sorry I stormed off like that. I had something in my eyes and it really itched," she lied. She knew it was an obvious one, but refused to admit to anything else. As she had stopped playing the song, all her dreams had come back with force. It hadn't been easy to give up on them the first time. Doing it again was becoming harder and harder, and she had yet to succeed. Every now and then doubt crept up in her if maybe she should continue trying after all, but in the end every time she looked into a mirror, she saw the face of a young, naïve girl staring back at her, deeply ashamed of what she had done just for a chance of a contract. That girl, years ago, had stood in the middle of her room, facing her reflection in the window, watching a flood of tears streaming down her face while smeared lipstick and ruined mascara made her features seem mask-like. That night she had made a vow never to try again, never to fall so deep again. Burdened already by the hurt of being called talentless from her parents, that night she had earned the right to call herself much worse as well. Lord knew somebody else thought she was. So young, so inexperienced, so scared of herself, she had banned every bit of singing from her life.

Trying to forget about that entire aspect of her life, she widened the fake smile. "Thanks for coming by, Quincy. I promise to show up tomorrow. But I think your wife is home by now and waiting for you."

Wife? Right. Just when he had managed to forget about that, Jude had to remind him! "You're probably right." He stood up, put on his jacket, and stopped one last time in the door Jude was holding open for him. "I meant what I said. Every word. Think about it."

"Thanks, but no." He nodded with temporary defeat. By the way she began busying herself with other things, he could tell she was closing off again. For now, he'd let her.

"Bye then…"

(Song: The Pretty Reckless, Zombie)


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter six. Promises.

Laura stood in the bedroom, staring at the white button down shirt in her hand, more precisely staring at the small reddish spot on the collar. Lipstick? Likely. When had he worn that shirt? She tried remembering. It was his best white shirt, and usually he only wore it with his Dolce-suit.

He had taken that one with him when he'd allegedly met up with business associates last week, subsequently staying the night at the hotel afterwards. She had tried calling his room – the number Jude had given her had doubtlessly been the one for his suite, and not the one for the desk, yet she had ended up there three times before giving up calling there altogether.

Jude.

It appalled her that once again the snotty teenager that called herself 'personal assistant' knew more about her husband's whereabouts than she did. But could she ask Jude? She could, but she'd not get many answers! It was truly awful to know that a maybe-cheating husband had more support than the cheated wife had.

"Here you are," her friend Angela said as she entered the bedroom, her eyes concerned. "Taking the stuff for the dry-cleaner is taking you pretty long." Her eyes landed on the white shirt in Laura's hands as she walked up to her. "Something wrong with that?"

Shrugging, not knowing, Laura looked up at her. "Lipstick stains, I think." And as if admitting to that small little assumption that she had made that dreadful situation all the more real, she blurted out what had been on her mind for weeks now and which she now felt that more entitled to worry about. "I know something is going on. He and his new _help _deliberately keep things from me. I know by the way they are looking at me sometimes. Like they have secrets. I know they do." Her head felt heavy and an odd sadness overcame her. She had never liked being on the outside of something – a group of friends, a seldom opportunity, a meeting, anything – but being on the outside of her own marriage, while her husband confided in some stranger he barely knew, was causing her stomach to churn in pain. It made her feel stupid. It made her feel desperate. And most of all, it made her feel helpless. "I don't know if he's actually cheating on me. Maybe he's…just regretting that he married me and now tries to find a smooth way out. Or he's having a whole harem of other women and laughs with them about his hilariously stupid wife. Or maybe he's waiting for a better wife and considers me as temporary amusement."

"He said 'yes'," Angela told her as she took the shirt from her friend's hand. Instead of looking at it, she stuffed it into the dry-cleaning bag. "If he hadn't wanted to be married to you, he could have just said 'no'. Tommy hasn't shown up on a lot of tabloids lately, has he? That means he's not partying much. Did it occur to you that he maybe needs time to adjust to this situation too? The wedding wasn't exactly planned. You told me that even you have your occasional doubts."

Laura sighed as she sat down on the bed, and professed with more tart than calm, "I have doubts that this will work out well. I didn't for a second doubt that he's the guy I want to be married to!"

"I wasn't saying he second-guessed you as his wife."

"But what if he does?"

"Have you asked him?"

A soundly groan slipped from her glossed, reddish lips. "If I did, he'd just evade answering. I overheard him speaking to his _valuable assistant_ the other day. He stocks presents for me, in case he screws up. He _stocks_ them!"

Angela still tried to see things from a more positive point of view. "He's considerate?"

"You're naïve." Laura wasn't surprised about that. Her friend was happily married for over seven years and had no reason to doubt that true love existed. What Laura however questioned was Tommy's faith in such epic emotion. He was a _jaded_ person and always had been. "I think Tommy knows that he will screw up sooner or later and so he plans on being prepared."

Sitting down next to her, Angela took her hand and squeezed it supportively. "You call me naïve? I think you're much too negative. Last time you and him came over to dinner, you hardly said anything to him, but kept staring at him, really waiting for him to make one wrong move. How is he supposed to find your marriage loveable, if you keep this up? You're parents are arriving later today and I know they hardly like him. Maybe it's time you give him a break? And this shirt," she said as she help up the bag with dirty clothes, "might just be nothing but a misunderstanding. Maybe it's not even lipstick at all."

Yeah! As if! She wasn't stupid or delusional like her friend. And the only reason her parents didn't like Tommy was his long list of mistakes. Especially her mother had seen her tearing up on more than one occasion, because Tommy had done, or not done, something.

By giving him another chance, after he had cheated on her, she'd put all her faith in him, desperately hoping he'd positively surprise her in the end. Maybe she was wrong. He had hardly cared back then that she had told him to go to hell after finding out about his betrayal. Sure, two days later, he'd come back begging for forgiveness, and his persistence to win her back had been flattering and new, but what if she'd seen too much in that act? Had she ever asked him why he had come back to her?

Laura dropped backwards, meeting the bed cover with her back. Staring at the ceiling, she let out a deep breath. "I think Tommy and I need to have a talk. A real conversation."

"That's a better idea than speculating and worrying, for sure!"

xxxxxx

Jude had not yet entered the office when Tommy thrust a guitar into her hands. Just when she was afraid he'd make her sing again, or force her into a booth, he completely startled her by voicing his demand. "Hit me with that! Over the head! Hurry!"

"What?" A laugh died on her lips when she saw that he was dead serious. "Why?"

"Laura just called. Her parents arrived and suggested to have dinner tonight. At a five star restaurant! Do you know what that means?" he asked, stricken by panic. "It means I can't just swallow everything in one bite and claim tiredness! It means I have to endure a whole night, several dishes, even dessert, all the while listening to her father rambling about his hardware-shop, while not so subtly telling me I never learned anything proper and that if I one day wind up out of work, I'd have no options to support my family." Tommy snorted. "I have millions on my bank account, not even counting the interest income! I don't need to work! I could retire and would still be rich! But don't think he'll understand, Jude. Cause he doesn't. So, I'm pleading with you. Hit me!"

Smiling back at him with a mixture of pity and amusement, she shook her head. "I'd go to jail for that and it's just not worth it. Sorry."

Spinning around, following her with his eyes as she made her way behind the desk, Tommy glared. "So you just let me suffer?"

"Dramatic much?" She rolled her eyes. "It's one dinner, Tommy! You'll manage."

He scoffed. "Fine then. But if I don't show up at work tomorrow, you'll know why not. Oh, and by the way, Laura has suggested we should go away for a couple of days. To _talk_. The last time she and I went away for a couple of days, we ended up married. What if she's pregnant when we return? I'm NOT ready for babies!"

"Calm down already." She was getting annoyed by his behavior. "You'll get some flashy dinner while I have to play tour guide for my asshole ex-boyfriend, thanks to you! So excuse me if my sympathy is lacking its depth."

Oh. Tommy hadn't remembered that Shay was coming back to town, or that he had forced Jude to play his hostess. "Sorry, I forgot."

"Figured."

"But I will still have a hard time getting through dinner! Ever since I cheated on Laura a couple of weeks ago, they somewhat hate me." The little confused boy-eyes he gave Jude were lost on her.

With a careless shrug she retorted, "Shouldn't have cheated then."

"Whoa!" That was one mean comeback he hadn't expected! "What's with you?" He sat down across her, suspiciously observing her as she began her work by skimming through his emails. "Since when are you so snappy? It can't be all about Shay. Besides, you've scored yourself a kick ass guitar for it."

Truth was, it wasn't all because of Shay. This morning, her mother had announced that her boyfriend, divorce lawyer Don Herrick, would move in over the next couple of days. "Sometimes you and your life aren't the only things on my mind," she bit out with slight chagrin as she still refused to meet his eyes. Come to think of it, maybe she was even a bit grateful to be able to be anywhere but at home, _and_ having a reasonable excuse for it.

Tommy sat up, his gaze turning a more interested shade. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Obviously something happened. You pretty much told me already. Just tell me what, so you'll have it off your chest."

Jude kept her view on the screen. "Mom's boyfriend moves in with us."

"Ah. And you don't like him?"

"He's… He's my mom's boyfriend. I don't care about him at all, and it's not like I even know him that well. But, the few times I did have a conversation with him he was just weird. He's arrogant and thinks he can tell Sadie and me what to do."

"Not that I'm saying you should, but you earn money now. Have you considered moving out?"

"I thought about it. But, it's my house. I'd feel like giving up, or something. _She_ should move out. She wants to be with him, so why can't she just move to his place? It'd be much easier if Dad moved back into the house."

Tommy gave a soft, slightly helpless smile. "I'm sorry." Now that he thought about it, his dinner date with his wife's family might not be as bad as he had made it out, after all, compared to Jude's current situation. "If you need a hideout, you can always stay here. Even after closing time, if it's any help. I'll make sure you'll get a set of keys today."

Now Jude looked at him, slightly surprised, but in a good way. "Thanks." She let out a frustrated sigh. "I'm not usually this grumpy over something so stupid, but…arrgh!" Tommy was chuckling as she continued. "Mom might want this, but it affects not just her life, but ours too. She could have at least asked!"

He could relate to her. For him, there was nothing worse than having to find himself stuck in a situation and being helpless to change it. In a way, he felt a little bit like that in his marriage. Going back was no option, and calling it quits was a huge step that would bring a truckload of unforeseeable consequences along. "Hey, why don't you come by tomorrow morning? I'll make breakfast for us. Laura plans on taking her parents to some long overdue sightseeing trip all across the city and I feigned an important meeting. Besides, you've never seen my apartment and since you're my personal assistant, I think you should."

"Why?" wondered Jude with a teasing grin. "So I can organize that, too?"

"Like you did my office?" Tommy laughed. "If you did that, I'd have to find myself a new place to live. You completely took over here!"

"You never complained before," she reminded him, her mood much better than earlier.

"Only because I hardly ever use this office. But I do need my apartment!"

Jude didn't say anything, but thought about his invitation for breakfast. His argument she should know his apartment was lame, but the idea of spending some time away from home was indeed appealing. She could go from breakfast at Tommy's to meeting Shay in his hotel. If memory served her right, he liked to sleep in. She'd not be home before late tomorrow night, and hopefully by then, her mother and Don would be out for dinner. It _did_sound nice. "Okay to breakfast."

"Excellent. I can't wait," he admitted with genuine happiness. In that moment his phone went off, and the ringtone, both knew, indicated it was Laura. Jude refocused on the screen while trying not to care about the little lies he kept feeding his wife on the phone, one being that he had just confirmed the phony business meeting tomorrow morning.

xxxxxx

Shay was taking a later flight. Go figure. The little moron had torpedoed her schedule, ruined an already ruined night by making her drive to the airport for nothing, all the while having no idea what he was even doing since he didn't even call her himself but merely left a note at G-Major. Not that anyone had informed her about that _until_ she had called in to ask for a possible change of plans.

"Will arrive tomorrow. Accommodate!"

Could he be more rude?

So, Jude had decided to go to bed early to be bright and shiny the next morning to meet up with Tommy for breakfast. And that aside, she was just plain tired after a long week of work. However, some moron decided to call her late, after nine pm, when she had just dozed off.

"What?" she seethed into the phone that was Tommy's spare one. "If this is not important," she preemptively warned, "I'll have your head on toast!"

"I forgot her birthday!"

Jude mumbled a snide 'moron!' under her breath, before sharply informing him, "I can already see your squashed face inside a toaster, Quincy!"

There was a grumble on the other side of the line. "Shut up and help me out! I forgot my mother-in-law's birthday! So, get me a present and bring it to the restaurant. You have an hour!"

"It's already past nine." By now Jude was fully awake again and desperately trying to find the switch for her nightstand lamp. "Most of the stores are closed by now! I don't even know what to get her!"

Another muffled sound came from him. "The earrings!"

"Huh?"

"The earrings," he repeated, with uncalled-for attitude, as Jude found. "You got earrings for Laura, didn't you?"

"They're at the office!"

"So? Get them and bring them to me!"

"Tommy—"

"Get them, bring them to me, and you can have one shopping spree on my credit card." Desperate times made him do stupid things. "If I don't have anything to hand over by the end of the night, the weekend will be ruined before it has even started. I told Laura's mother the present would be served with dessert – as a surprise. Help me out!"

Jude was still reluctant, but the idea of spending some of his money was intriguing. "I can buy whatever I want? What if I want to buy a car?"

"How about I fire you?"

"But—"

"The mall, two hours, no car! That's my last offer."

She gave in. "The address of the restaurant…"

xxxxxx

Jude hadn't bothered pimping herself up to meet Tommy. Wearing sweatpants, a hoodie and a non-matching leather jacket, she pulled up her sister's lime green beetle in front of the fancy restaurant, told the valet that she'd not need more than five minutes, offended him by not giving him any tip, and proceeded to enter the restaurant with a miffed attitude that called for confrontation.

What she hadn't expected was the actual level of fanciness the restaurant had. Two dressed up men stopped at the checkroom, carefully but effectively blocking her from entering any further. "We're sorry, but this place has a certain dress code."

Bothered, she rolled her eyes. "I'd not have guessed! I'm not here to eat. There's a guest, Tom Quincy, who's dying to see me. If you could just get him, I promise I'll be gone in no time!"

One of the men looked at the other, as if silently conversing, before both turned back to look at her. "There's no Tom Quincy here."

"I know he is," Jude stated, crossing her arms. "He, his wife, and his wife's parents." She dug for the earrings in her pocket, and pulled them out un-swiftly, but with a yank. "These, Tommy is waiting for! Just get him!"

"Like we said…"

Jude ignored the talking penguins, growled a snide comment that she hoped they didn't catch and pulled out her cell to call Tommy. He answered immediately. "I'm here, but I'm taken hostage in the checkroom. Please come." She hung up, not giving him any chance to reply. A minute later, he was there, dressed up in a smashing dark tailored suit, jacket undone, with a plain black tie and a matching black button down shirt. He looked smoking hot, Jude had to admit. Like some male model on the runway, presenting some lavish new outfits.

The only thing that didn't match that image was the almost pathetic expression of relief on his face when he saw her. "Finally. What took you so long?" The other two men he dismissed with the same look she had seen him given to his artists often. And just like they did, the men left wordlessly. She found it pretty cool how easily he could get people to do what he wanted them to and wondered if he could teach it to her. But her awe for that was turned into annoyance at him when he reminded her, "I could have managed your task in half the time!"

"Next time, I'll just ignore traffic rules, run some people over and maybe kill a dog or two!" Jude snipped and pushed the earrings into his hands. "Here! Bye."

"Whoa wait!" He grabbed her arm, gently but still firm enough to stop her. "You didn't wrap them? It's supposed to be a present!"

"Where the hell would I have found wrapping paper, huh? I'm not a Genie!"

"Certainly not," he mumbled.

Jude heard, though. "Excuse me? I drove across the city, _twice_, so you wouldn't look like the idiot you are in front on your awesome new family. Be happy about that and shut up!"

"I am happy," Tommy assured with a nod as he gave her the once over. "But you couldn't have taken the time to put on some proper clothes? Seriously," he stared chuckling, "you came here in sweatpants?" His laughter increased. "Oh Harrison…"

Huffing, she yanked her arm away and marched passed him. "See you tomorrow," she clipped, and was almost out the door when she heard him laughing even harder. "What?" Jude spun around and glowered.

"There's a hole in the back of your pants! I can see that you're wearing purple panties with little yellow hearts on. Very…sexy…" he managed to get between his amusement fits.

Jude paled. Oh my God. She had put on her favorite pair of sweatpants not remembering that she had meant to throw them away for a while now, because of that hideously big hole in the back. She was humiliated to the bone, but didn't dare to show. Quincy was already laughing. If she ran now, he'd never let her live down to that. Instead, with all the sass she could muster, she squared her shoulders, met his eyes and crossed her arms smugly. "I happen to find those panties very sexy indeed."

Tommy still laughed. But the guts that girl had amazed him. He took the earrings out from the jacket pocket and instead placed it into his pants pockets, before taking off the jacket and handing it to her. "It should cover your butt. There are people with cameras out there and they doubtlessly just wait for you to come back out."

Having not expected that from him, she took off her leather jacket, put on his dark blue one, and buttoned it up. It did cover her butt. Looking at him, slightly out of words, Jude muttered a meek "Thanks."

Tommy nodded, no longer chuckling, but smiling in that ever so confident, I-know-how-awesome-I-am-way. "You're welcome. And thanks for the earrings." Subtly quipping, "despite them not being wrapped up."

Jude wanted to take offense but instead just gazed at him as he gazed at her. "No problem. See you tomorrow."

"Looking forward to it," he assured as sincerely as he could manage, his eyes twinkling in sly joy.

Walking finally away from him, the smile eventually broke free on Jude's face. She found it startling how well he could play with her emotions, bringing her from annoyed to angry to happy within a minute at most. She didn't even mind that she had to leave through the front door where indeed two paparazzi were now snapping pictures of her. No doubt, they had seen her entering the restaurant with that hole in her pants. As she tugged the jacket more firmly around her body, she noticed the distinct scent of Tommy drifting from it. Probably some expensive cologne! She liked it, nonetheless. Too bad she'd have to give the piece of clothing back to him tomorrow.

xxxxxx

"What happened?" When Tommy sat back down at the table, he found his wife frantically tugging and tapping the sleeve of her blouse with a napkin. "Everything alright?"

"No," Laura whined. "The waiter totally ruined my white Chanel blouse."

Taking a closer look, he barely saw the trouble. It rather looked like a water stain. "White wine?"

"Cheese."

"Cheese?"

"He was offering me Parmesan. I leaned aside and some bits hit my sleeve. It'll stain, I'm sure!" Laura turned towards him. "Where's your jacket?"

"Uh…waiter-accident."

"Great," she snubbed, "the service here is marvelous! I'll make sure _not_ to recommend it to anyone!"

"Calm down," he soothed as he patted his wife's back. "I'll buy you a new blouse." As Laura and her mother still tried to save the sleeve with sparkly water, his thoughts drifted back to Jude and he couldn't help wondering what she'd have done in Laura's place. And then he wondered what Laura would have done in Jude's place, heading for a handful of Paparazzi with ripped pants and her panties on view. She'd surely not have defended her choice of underwear as his quirky assistant had done…

xxxxxx

Jude was startled and immediately nervous when it wasn't Tommy opening the door to his apartment but an elderly lady Jude assumed was Laura's mother. Damn, Quincy! Hadn't he promised her that his parents-in-law would be out sightseeing by nine? What should she do now? Admit to the real reason she was here? That'd only blow Tommy's lie of having an important business meeting.

Oh, the business meeting! Jude could work with that.

"You are?" The woman asked as she deliberately refused to open the door any more than necessary.

Smiling politely, Jude began to lie. "I'm Tommy's assistant. He's having a business meeting in a little bit." She decided to stay vague on the time, not knowing what details he had fed them earlier. "He wanted me to bring him some last minutes numbers."

The woman's eyes roamed over her. "You don't have any papers with you. Just a jacket…"

Oh shit – She had brought along Tommy's jacket from last night. How to explain that?

In that second, Tommy appeared in the doorway, pulling the door itself all the way open. "Jude, you're here." He obviously hadn't anticipated this turn of events either.

To avoid he'd come up with his own, completely different story for her presence, Jude acted quickly and handed him a memory stick she remembered having in her pocket. He took it, waiting for her explanation. "The numbers you wanted me to go over with you before you'd meet up with those associate people later."

His eyes, she was almost sure, silently thanked her. "Right. Come in." His mother-in-law eyed them the whole time as he led her into the dining room, where his laptop was. As he offered her a seat, he stealthily whispered, "They were supposed to be gone by now. Laura can't decide what to wear!" Annoyance spoke from him. To play along the lie they were trying to sell just then – his wife's parents were both hovering in the dining room door, Tommy plugged the memory stick in. "You always carry one around?"

Jude blushed, even more so when the content on said stick appeared on the screen. Songs, illegally downloaded from the G-Major database. The scolding look Tommy gave her was actually intimidating.

"We have fired people for downloading unreleased songs," he noted as low as possible as he sat down next to her.

"I hadn't planned on you finding out," Jude retorted, pretending to explain something on the screen to him.

"Jude?"

Tommy and Jude whipped their heads to the door. "Laura." Standing up, he walked up to her to place a kiss on her lips. Jude wasn't sure if that one was genuine or to stop her from asking the wrong questions. "Jude dropped by to give me some last minute numbers."

Unconvinced, but not knowing what other reason that girl could have to be at their place, Laura nodded. Until her eyes landed on the chair next to Jude, where Tommy's jacket was resting. Hadn't he said some waiter had ruined it by running into him while he had been on his way to the restroom? Hadn't he also told her that he had told the waiter to simply discard the jacket, since it was ruined anyway?

"Maybe," Laura suggested, increasingly certain she was being lied to, "we should postpone sightseeing…"

Pecking her lips once again, Tommy shook his head. "Why? I'm out in a few minutes anyway. I'll just have Jude show me some last numbers and then I'm gone for the morning. Today is nice, so you and your parents should spend it outside, together." He gently nudged her out the door, towards down the hallway where her parents were waiting, disapprovingly looking at him. "Have fun today! I'll call you later." He waited until they had left the apartment before returning to Jude. "Seriously," he picked up where the conversation had ended. "You can't just download songs!"

Scoffing at his words, Jude stared at him as if he had two heads. "You just fed your in-laws and your wife a story full of lies and deceptions and scold me for downloading _two_ songs? You're kidding, right?"

Tommy raised his shoulders innocently. "You saw my wife and her parents. Neither of them trusts me so if I had told them that I'd rather spend the morning here than watch some lame ass old buildings with them, they'd have never left!"

"Did it occur to you that your lying is the reason they don't trust you?"

Evading answering by standing up and rolling his eyes, Tommy's lips curled into a boyish smile. "So, waffles for breakfast?"

Knowing she'd not get an answer, Jude sighed and nodded. But she was not above remarking, "one day, your house of cards will come tumbling down."

"Lucky for me," he called from the adjoining kitchen, "I know as long as I have you, that won't happen. Do I have to make the waffles by myself, or will you help me?" There was just a hint of impatience in his voice. He was probably wondering why she hadn't come to his help already. Jude made her way into the kitchen but remained in the doorway, leaning against it with her shoulder. She laughed when she saw him wearing an apron.

"I'm _not_ a good help in the kitchen. If you actually want to eat the waffles, I'm best placed here – away from you."

"That bad?" He tossed her a grin. "No way!"

"Yes way! I've ruined enough food in my life to know my limits. I _do_, though, know how to make coffee!"

"In that case," he pointed to the coffee maker, "go ahead."

With a smile, Jude did. "Fancy kitchen by the way. So…colorful." She was surprised to find patterned wallpapers, highlighted by flowery designs, all around her. This place was Tommy's, at least he always said so, and yet it was extremely feminine. Sadie would love it here. Jude preferred fewer flowers, but simple colors like beige, white or light grey. Something a little less girly and a little more…guitar-friendly. She couldn't hang a sunburned-colored Telecaster on a baby-blue wall! The mere thought of it caused her to shiver.

"Laura redesigned it after she moved in. It was either that, or buying her a house."

"So you chose against the house, obviously. Why? I mean, this isn't necessarily the biggest place." She'd seen little of it, sure, but while the living room and the dining room were big and lavish, it was evident however this was a place for one, not for a family in the making.

Tommy shrugged as he mixed the ingredients for the waffle dough. "A house is so…definite."

"Whereas marriage is just a loose contract," Jude snorted.

Tommy stopped doing what he did and looked at her, his face serious. "If I buy a house, it's not just a new place to live. It'd be something Laura and I would own together. And it'd not just be a little thing, but a huge step."

"Yeah, and if you two divorced, she'd own half of it!"

"Hey!"

Jude blinked, startled by his harsh reaction, but also by realizing how far she'd just gone. "I'm sorry."

Nodding, Tommy's face softened. "Just because I can afford to buy a house without worrying, it doesn't mean I don't know it'd be a big gesture. I'm not one of those people that just buy houses out of boredom. If I ever do get one, it'd be a place I'm ready to settle down at. This apartment has two bedrooms and one I made sure would stay a guest room. A house would have more than just two bedrooms. And that means I'd have to think about bedrooms for possible children. I'd have to think about a good neighborhood, and a good school nearby. I'm not ready to think about _that_."

He was thinking about _that_, Jude realized. Even if just by trying not to think of it. She began to understand his reluctance. "I wasn't aware you'd put so much thought into it." It was something that made him all the more interesting, even special. She shouldn't have these thoughts, Jude knew, but didn't see how she could stop it from happening. Focusing on the task at hand, she changed the topic abruptly, not caring whether he'd note or not. "Coffee is almost done."

Tommy's eyes lingered on her for another moment, until he turned away and nodded. "Dough, too." He remembered the last time he had tried to explain to Laura why he wasn't willing to buy a house yet, and recalled only having mentioned he'd not even know what type of house he wanted to have. Her reaction had, mildly put, been unhappiness. If he had expressed himself to her as he had just done to Jude, she might have understood better. It occurred to him that he hadn't cared that much if she knew the actual reason for his hesitation. Another thing on that long list of items that made him doubt his marriage would turn out well.

Over breakfast, their moods had lightened again, and as Jude munched on a waffle that might just qualify as one of the best she'd ever tasted, she watched Tommy picking at his plate. "Not good? You made it yourself!"

He chuckled. "No, it's good. _Because_ I made it myself," he added.

Jude sensed a 'but'. And surely, it came…

"But…I was thinking of later." He had initially wanted her to meet Shay and play his host, since Darius didn't want him to run havoc and make even more bad headlines. Lately, his precious nephew had collected quite a few of them. Now though, it began to dawn on him what he was asking of Jude. She was becoming a friend to him, a good one, and he began – albeit not happily so – to care about her feelings. "I know that spending time with someone you don't like is a tough thing, so…I mean, Laura and her parents won't be back for a while, so I can take over the Shay-thing."

Eyes big in surprise, Jude wasn't sure if he was doing this for her, or just so. "What?"

"He's your ex and I don't want to ruin your day by making you meet with him. It was my job to play his guide to begin with, and…"

"So you're doing this for me?" A smile rose to her lips.

Tommy shifted in his seat, never having been one to talk about his inner intentions. "I have time," he reasoned.

Jude forgot the half-finished waffle on her plate as she looked at him, his face adorably uncomfortable. She figured he didn't regularly suggest something as selfless as that. "It's okay," she assured, touched by his offer. "I'll have to face him eventually. Maybe it's time he and I talk."

"Last night you called him an asshole." It struck him as odd that he had noticed _and_ remembered.

Jude laughed. "He _is_ an asshole."

"You never said what happened between the two of you."

Now it was her turn to squirm a little. "Not much. He…cheated. Kissed another girl. But, that kiss wasn't really the reason I find him so disgusting. I saw him kissing another girl." Jude breathed deeply. "I stood in the door, in shock, and when he spotted me, he…um – Shay obviously didn't expect to find me there. I don't think he even thought we were still together, although he had never broken up with me, so when he saw me staring in shock, he became annoyed and asked me what I was even doing there. Like I had no right to intrude into his world and should apologize. As if I had disrupted his _perfect kiss_ with that girl."

"I had no idea." The breakfast in front of him had fully slipped his mind. Instead, he found himself bothered by Shay's very existence, even more than usual. "You were only fifteen?" Aware that he had broken his own fair share of hearts, he had, however, never broken such a young heart. Shay must have been her first love.

Not meeting his eyes, Jude pushed a piece of waffle around on her plate. She shrugged. "I learned a lot of lessons that day."

Something else occurred to Tommy in that moment. "When I asked you to work for me, and not just that, but also to-"

"To lie?" Jude finished for him. A fleeting smile hushed over her features. "It takes two to make mistakes, Tommy. One who makes them, and one who lets them happen. Shay called me two times during the six weeks he was away. I chose to believe everything was okay between him and me." Jude admitted something else. "Laura is doubting you. Every occasion she gets, she asks me about your whereabouts. She's searching for the lies you tell her. She knows you're not always honest with her. It's not your fault she decides to stay anyway. And you never have cheated, as far as I know, so I'm not really keeping anything from her, aside some minor things, like your distaste to spend more time with her family. If you _do_ cheat, I will _try_ to be a loyal employee, but I can't promise anything else. Because if she asks me flat out if you had sex with another woman, I might not be able to lie."

For the first time he fathomed what a colossal ass he had been asking that from her in the first place. He had never been at the receiving line of a betrayal and Laura had never let him in on her feelings after she had found out about his slip up a few weeks ago. Now that he saw how such actions could hurt someone and Jude _was_ still hurt despite not having seen Shay for years, he felt the need to apologize. "I don't want you to lie for me. If I screw up again, and I'm _not_ saying I will, I want you to know I will not fire you, even if you tell Laura."

"Two weeks ago, that sounded different."

"Two weeks ago, I was an idiot. Maybe I'm still one. I mean, so far I've only tried not to let this marriage end. Maybe I should start making it work, instead."

Stunned, Jude's eyes widened.

He chuckled. "Does it shock you that much?"

"Yes," she declared. "A week ago, you were rubbing off against my butt a-" The words froze on her lips.

It was Tommy's time to be shocked. "You said you didn't remember."

As her cheeks turned a crimson red, Jude sighed deeply. Damn! But maybe, it was good that it was out. "Look, we both had a lapse of judgment that night. We were drunk and it was late and we shouldn't have done what we did. I played stupid because I didn't know what to do or say to you. What _was_ there to say?"

Not knowing an answer, he shrugged. Maybe he'd have done the same thing. "You're right. It was a mistake and nothing more. Lets agree we don't get drunk together, anymore," he joked, only half so though. "But," and he came back to his initial promise, "I did mean what I said. I've been thinking about Laura and me for a while now, and about our marriage. If I don't put some effort into it, I might as well just end it now. That night when you and I… I let myself forget the reality I live in. I'm not going to, again."

"That'd be good," Jude agreed, the faintest hint of a mocking gleam in her eyes. "Besides, I'd much rather help you to make Laura happy, than help you deceive her." As she said that, Jude found herself at odds. She did mean those words and yet, somehow, she didn't. But before she could think about that some more, Tommy's cellphone went off.

"It's Shay," he told her. After answering, he further said, "he arrived at the airport and is ready to be picked up in twenty minutes."

Jude rolled her eyes. "He is ready to be picked up?" She snickered. "Always so humble."

"You sure you want to go?"

She nodded as she rose to her feet. "Today might be the day I'll finally put him behind me." As their eyes met for another time that morning, Jude was struck by the intensity of his gaze. He genuinely cared for her, she realized. Trying her hardest to ignore the small flutter in her stomach, she smiled brightly. "Thanks for the breakfast, Quincy. I'll see you Monday."

"Will do," he replied, and stood up as well. Jude lingered in her position as if waiting for something and Tommy, too, wasn't sure a simple goodbye was enough to end what surprisingly honest conversation they just had. So, a little awkwardly, he gave Jude a quick hug, leaned back, and waited for her reaction. She hadn't returned the embrace, and was slightly stunned by it, he could tell. But eventually, the smile returned to her lips, a little wider even than before, and she made her way out with no further word.

An interesting morning it had been, indeed. As he began to clean the table, Tommy spotted his jacket from last night on the chair next to where Jude had sat. Picking it up, for whatever reasons sniffing at it, he discovered it smelled the same way she did, if only lightly. Then he tossed it back over the chair's back and continued to clean. His mood was quite good, he found, but didn't dare to connect that to his assistant.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter seven. The night out.

Jude didn't know what to expect when she pulled up in front of the airport in her sister's green Beetle. Sadie had been generous enough to let her drive it, lately. She herself was enjoying the perks of letting her new boyfriend drive her around. Some law student from her college. While trying to find a spot to park without actually entering the parking lot, since she hoped Shay would just hop in and have someone else take care of his luggage, she didn't plan on staying any more than a few minutes after all.

Shay did hop in. Tommy had texted him that a lime green VW Beetle would pick him up and that he should make no big fuss, otherwise his designated tour guide would leave him there. When Quincy had told her, Jude had laughed. But, apparently, it had worked.

Now, with her expression as emotionless as possible, Jude hit the road again, as Shay Mills sat in the driver's seat, wide-eyed and gaping. "You?"

"Hi, honey. Missed you, too," she snarled. Okay, so maybe that whole not showing any emotions-thing wasn't working so well. "Are you still dating that blond slut I last saw you with?"

"How…?" Shay stammered. "What the fuck? How did you know I was coming to town? And does Darius know you're here? Cause last time, he made sure to keep you away from me. You nearly caused a riot in front of his house! He managed just in time to shove you into a cab and get you away from all those reporters. You almost ruined my reputation!"

Trying not to get too angry too quickly, Jude had decided the best way to deal with this would be sarcasm. "Like you'd need me for that. As a matter of fact, I was handpicked to play your entertainment. See, I'm Tommy's personal assistant now and while I admit in the beginning I was reluctant for obvious reasons to spend time with you, I now embrace this marvelous opportunity we have."

Significantly paler, Shay asked, "You won't kill me, or so. Do you? Or maybe you have some other stupid revenge ideas. Seriously, Jude. It was a bad day and had you called first, you'd have never seen me kissing the other girl!"

He was getting right to it, Jude realized, but didn't mind. Snorting at his words, she glared at him. "If I had called? You have to be kidding me! So it's my fault you cheated on me?"

"Um…" His face wrinkled in irritation. "We weren't dating!"

"You never broke up with me," Jude reminded him spitefully.

"I went on tour!"

She was struck. "So that's it? Just because you went on tour, we were broken up? In the world I live in, someone actually voices these things before assuming it's common knowledge!"

"Just drop me off at my hotel, will you? I have D summon me some other chick. I don't get why I even need a sitter in the first place. I'm twenty and very well able to survive on my own. Besides, I grew up here!" Rummaging through his carry-on for his cell phone, Jude mutely kept driving. "Why am I being controlled, anyway?" he asked.

"No idea," Jude nonchalantly said. "The million and one bad headlines, I assume. Quincy was very vague on that part."

"So you're dating him now? You know he's married, right?"

Pulling the car to a full stop, which caused Shay to yell and call her crazy, Jude spun around in her seat and stared at him the most threatening way she could muster. "Tommy knows you and I have a past. And because of it, he feels pretty bad for making me spend my time with you. So, whatever I ask of him, he'll do for me. He'd even lie to your uncle for me and pretend something like you're dying to become a better person and do some charity work. How about two weeks of soup kitchen? He'd be delighted to arrange that, given your bad publicity lately. Or, I just beg Tommy to kick your ass. I'm pretty good with the fake tears and Tommy is a head taller than you! Are you still sure you want to behave like the stupid moron that you are, or can you bring yourself to show some respect and politeness?"

Shay kept glaring at her for a few moments until breaking into a smug smirk. "If you had shown some of that fire while we were still dating, I might have never broken up with you!"

"You never broke up with me," Jude shot fiercely, before slapping his cheek as hard as possible. He flinched in pain. "And if you had been a better kisser, I might have even missed you after I told you to go to hell." Jude started the car again, and resumed driving, hoping they would reach that damn mall soon. She still had her two hours with Tommy's credit card and she was determined to use Shay as a mule to carry all her bags.

xxxxxx

Shay pulled the hoodie of his overly pimped sweater further over his head, desperately trying to hide his face as they left a lingerie store. Jude had figured there was some punishment in buying a lot of sexy lingerie in front of Shay, while constantly pointing out he'd never see her wearing it. So, annoyed and grumpy, Shay carried two full bags of lacy bras and panties, while reminding her, "If I get noticed, we'll have a real problem! My fans are crazy stalker chicks who like ripping at my clothes!"

"Like I care," Jude tossed back, and headed for the next store.

"I could just drop your damn bags, hit a cab and go to my hotel. I'm really tired! You might want to be a little nicer to me," he suggested grimly.

Jude laughed. "And I could just call Tommy and have him cancel your recording session tomorrow. That way, you'd be stuck here with me even longer. To torture you, I might just forget how much you annoy me." She pointed to a shoe store. "Sadie's birthday is coming up. You remember my lovely, crazy for famous people-sister, right? Why don't I text her you're dying to see her again? She'll surely bring some fans along."

He hissed through a tightly shut jaw, "Just get some shoes and let's go!"

"Some shoes?" Jude shook her head mockingly. "Oh boy. You'll have a lot to learn about girls and shoes." Normally, she hated spending more than ten minutes in the same store, unless they sold records or instruments, but for Shay, she'd make an exception. "You might want to organize some sort of transportation device. I plan on buying a lot…"

xxxxxx

"Buy it already," Shay snapped, after returning from his third trip to the car to load off Jude's new stuff. With a hotdog she had settled on a bench in front of a store's window, admiring a deep red evening gown, covered in rhinestones from top to button. It was an Ellie Saab runway dress and the item in the window that captured all eyes.

Jude looked up and feigned stupidity. "What are you talking about? Buy what?"

Rolling his eyes, he sat down next to her. He was exhausted. "You've been staring at that dress for thirty minutes now. Just buy it."

Forgetting for a moment how much she hated Shay, Jude lowered her head. "What for? I wouldn't know when to wear it. I don't think I've ever gone to a party where people wore dresses like that! It'd be a waste." She checked the time. "Besides, my two hours as a rich girl are over."

"What?"

"It's not my money I was spending. I'm NOT rich," she reminded him, confused he had assumed so even for a moment. "I helped Quincy out. In return, I got two hours with his credit card, no questions asked. I started shopping at eleven, it's one-thirty now. I'm a normal girl again. And that girl," Jude sighed as she rose to her feed, "doesn't get to wear those dresses. Come on, let's go. You haven't eaten all day and I think there're some cookie crumbles underneath the passenger's seat in Sadie's car. If you get lucky, there might just be a chewed gum, too."

Despite being tired, thirsty and highly annoyed by her snide remarks that he'd had to endure all morning, Shay chuckled as he followed her once again. Slowly he began to remember why he had asked her out, all those years ago, before life had let him forget. Once he had reached her side, he just had to ask. "Quincy allowed you two hours with his credit card? What'd you do for him? Buy viagra?"

Laughing at that idea, Jude found he wasn't necessarily the worst company. If he wasn't a deliberately mean idiot, at least. "He forgot something, which could have gotten him into trouble if I hadn't helped him out, that's all I'm saying. You'd only end up using it against him."

"You bet," Shay assured. "Cocky jerk needs a lesson!"

Jude stared at him. "What's it with you two? Tommy made the same comment about you. Why do you two hate each other that much?"

"He pulled a pretty bad number on my aunt, in case you forgot."

"Yeah. Poor, innocent Portia," Jude mumbled, utterly lacking sympathy. "How is D's little sister?"

"Busy, as always. Made some new friends in Europe."

"I bet she did."

"Jude, she's never been anything but nice to you!"

"Whatever."

Not willing to delve into matters that didn't concern him, Shay shrugged. "Listen, I played nice for the last hours, but I really want to get some rest. Can we please go to my hotel? I'll buy you dinner tonight if we do."

Dinner? Hm… Well, she could use some time to unpack all her stuff anyway, so she might as well just drop him off for a few hours. "Promise me not to make any headlines until I pick you up again."

He rolled his eyes and held his hand up. "Pinky swear!"

Jude laughed again. Then she held up her own pinkie and indeed made him swear.

xxxxxx

Laura had the brightest smile on her lips as Tommy guided her into the restaurant. The place, lavishly decorated with chandeliers, candles, and luxurious table arrangements, was perfect for a romantic evening for two, and the fact that her dashing looking husband had suggested they'd take the night off from her parents and instead enjoy some desperately needed quality time only added to her giddiness. For this occasion she had even put on her most expensive dress – a one of a kind Marc Jacobs that she had been allowed to keep after a fashion show, instead of a paycheck. She had money enough but that dress was something nobody else owned. As she lifted the hem of the dark blue chiffon ensemble, which plunged ever so deeply between her breasts, she linked her other arm with Tommy's. "I love you. Have I told you that today?" After all the weeks of doubting him, this moment of perfection was the very reason she was so badly in love with him. When he wanted to be, he could simply blow her mind by being an attentive gentleman of the first class.

Tommy dipped his head and placed a lingering kiss on his wife's red-glossed lips. "You look unbelievably beautiful tonight, Darling."

For that flattering compliment she even ignored the twinge of sadness that overcame her for his not responding to her love-declaration. "Thank you, Baby." She returned the kiss, feeling like a sixteen-year old girl that was on her first date with prince charming himself. "What's the occasion for spoiling me so much?"

"Do I need an occasion?" After this morning's admittance to Jude that he'd pay some more effort into making his marriage a happy one, he had decided that the best way to start was actually spending some time with his wife. And as much as he wanted to change her parents' opinion of him, he just couldn't stand the idea of enduring yet another evening with them. So he opted for a fancy night out. "You're my wife. That's reason enough." With a smile that screamed confidence he led her towards their table, following the waiter that guided them.

xxxxxx

Jude was truly scared to sit down when Shay pulled the chair back for her. Wearing a dress as expensive as Sadie's car, she was worried that even the smallest wrinkle would ruin it forever. Earlier the day, about an hour after dropping off Shay at his hotel, a messenger had delivered the very red sequined dress she had admired in the mall that noon. She didn't doubt he had only bought her said piece to buy himself back on her good side, since the accompanying card had said exactly that:

'I know you hate flowers, so I hope this dress will help my case. I'm sorry what I did to you. Please forgive me. -Shay.'

Jude definitely wouldn't forgive him just because he had bought her something, expensive or not, but she did acknowledge that it had been the first time he had apologized and decided to at least give him some credit for that.

As he waited for her to take a seat, she gave him a sheepish smile, while remaining on her feed. "What if I wrinkle it?"

Chuckling, Shay smirked at her. "I'll buy you a new one, then! It's a dress, Jude. Not that Holy Grail. Just enjoy the night and not think of what you're wearing." She did sit down then. As he took his own seat across her, he signaled something for the waiter and a moment later, two flutes of champagne arrived.

Jude grinned. "You really don't think that one fancy night will make me forget what you did!"

Opening the buttons of his tailored suit jacket, Shay shook his head with what Jude knew was a secretive smile. "By the end of the night, you might just be begging me to take you back. I'm quite good in making women forgive me!"

"I don't doubt that," Jude agreed, still amused, "since you doubtlessly have enough experience with that."

Keeping up the light banter, Shay assured, "I rarely ever apologize. But when I do, I do it right."

"Spoken like a true Casanova." Jude sipped on the champagne, not fully convinced she even liked the taste. She wasn't a fan of alcohol in general after having lost her self-control over it on more than one occasion. Yet she did drink it and kept smiling. No doubt, this night would cost Shay a small fortune. The dress alone was enough to survive a few months – at least in her world. "Why are you doing this?" she couldn't help but ask. "You had three years to apologize, but never even called or wrote. Why now? Just because we've met again?"

"I genuinely thought we were broken up that day at the party. I called you twice during the tour and we barely spoke two lines on the phone. Before that party, we hadn't spoken in three weeks. I don't even know why you got an invitation. That moment I saw you in the door, with tears in your eyes, I was overwhelmed. You were the first girl I had honestly cared about and realizing I had just broken your heart – I wasn't prepared for that. I made myself believe I didn't care for you after all and for three years it worked just fine. Seeing you again made me understand that this may be my chance to make amends. Not just for being an ass three years ago. I was one, this morning, too. Again, sorry." Self-consciously searching her eyes, daring to hope for forgiveness, he only found disbelief staring back at him.

"You broke my heart, you wrecked my pride, and you crashed every naïve hope I might have had that I was the one girl that could change you for the better. I dated you for two weeks, but those few days were everything to me. You knew exactly what I was going through at that time, how much I would have needed someone that stood by me, and not gave up on me on the first possible opportunity. I get that you're sorry, but forgiving you for that will take a lot of time. You were the one good thing in my life back then and you knew it, cause I told you. Thank you for the dress, for taking me out, for whatever else you might have planned for the evening. But that won't make me change my mind about you, or make me put my trust in you again. For what it's worth, I won't behave like a snotty girl anymore, but politeness is all you can expect from me."

"And here I was hoping for a second chance."

Stupefied, Jude stared at him. "What?"

"You've always been special, Jude. Today, I realized I missed you."

"You've got to be kidding me." She shook her head. "Never ever will I date you again. If you're only asking for my forgiveness to score yourself a second chance, better stop now! It'd be a waste of your money and time."

"It's not the only reason I want to make amends," he professed. "I am sorry."

"Well, fine then. Be sorry as much as you want. We won't happen, Shay. And I'm not kidding. Maybe you didn't get that you were cheating on me three years ago, but you saw my tears and in THAT moment you knew you did something wrong. It took you three years to apologize. I'm a girl, Shay. It will take me ten times that long to forgive and forget."

In that moment the waiter returned, bringing the menus with him. As he handed one to Shay, Jude stood up abruptly. "Order for me, will you? I need to… I'll be back in a second." For a moment she needed to be away from him, to comprehend what he had just told her. A second chance? He couldn't honestly believe she'd ever agree to that? Slipping into a dark hallway in the very back of the restaurant, near the restrooms, Jude no longer cared for the fine material of her dress, or if she ruined it accidentally.

xxxxxx

Tommy had nearly dropped out of his chair when he seen that flash of sparkling red hurry by. Jude? What was she doing here, and why was she so urgently heading somewhere? After quickly excusing himself to his wife, who was still on a high of flatters and attention, he made his way to the back of the restaurant until spotting his assistant hiding behind a giant plant, with her back against the dark wooded wall, eyes closed, breathing deeply. As he stepped closer he was struck by her beauty. The dress, daring and yet demure, accentuated her incredibly stunning figure in just the right way. Her hair, curled more than usually, was loosely pulled up at the back of her head, making her neck look that much longer. In the dim light he was even more aware of her creamy white, flawless skin. For a second, she simply took his breath away.

"Tommy?"

Startled by her remark, he snapped out of his admiration. "Hey." He stepped closer. "I saw you hurrying by. Are you okay?"

Her eyes were sparkling as she gazed at him with her big midnight blue eyes, still confused. "What…?"

"I'm here with Laura," he explained, taking yet another step towards her. As much as he didn't like the idea, he knew it was most likely she was here with Shay. Her words confirmed the assumption.

"Shay took me out, to apologize…or whatever." She closed her eyes again, collecting her thoughts. "I told him he broke my heart and he told me he wanted a second chance. It just took me so off guard for a second. How can he possibly think I'd agree to that?" When her lids rose, her eyes met his in sincere wonder. "How? I mean…don't take it the wrong way," she sighed, "but you cheated on your wife. What made you believe she'd forgive you after you hurt her so badly?"

His mind went blank. That question had come out of nowhere. "I don't know," he replied truthfully. "I just hoped…I guess."

Her head fell. She wasn't sure what answer she had wanted, but his was not it. "Why did you want her back? She wasn't enough the first time, or otherwise you'd not have slept with that other woman. What changed?"

"Jude…" Tommy took a spot next to her and leaned, like she was doing, with his back against the wall. "Laura was the first one in a very long time that wasn't like everybody else. I had to lose her first to understand that I wanted that certain 'something more'. I don't know how else to explain it." Afraid of her answer, he though asked, "Do you want him back?"

She firmly shook her head. "No."

"Even if he has changed?" As he asked, he let his gaze travel across her body again, ever so mesmerized how stunning she looked. Not at all like that feisty assistant she normally was. Right now, she was the epitome of perfection. It scared him to have these thoughts, for he had never had them for his wife. It was out of question Laura was a gorgeous woman, but there was something indescribable about Jude that just made her look dazzling. Maybe it was the depth of her eyes, the way she carried herself, or the fact that she simply wasn't the average female he met in his life. He couldn't stop looking at her.

Just about to answer his question she blushed upon noticing the way he took her in. Muted by that, her mouth opened ever so slightly. She needed a little bit more of air than her nose could supply her with. As unaware as she had been of it before, now she sensed tingles all over her skin, along with a wave of heat that seemed to hit her out of nowhere. Unabashedly staring back at him, she might as well have drooled and not have noticed. He was wearing one of those tailored suits again, the deepest black she had ever seen. A white shirt beneath was topped off by a plain black tie. He didn't need anything more for he looked downright smoking. Had she ever been so aware of his masculine? She genuinely wondered.

"Tom."

Both ripped her gazes away from one another, seeing Shay standing at the end of the hallway, bothered, if not downright angry.

"I didn't know you were here, too." Stepping closer, hands casually in his pockets, he unmistakably wasn't happy about his presence. Focusing on Jude, he told her, "I was worried. You didn't come back. I hope I wasn't interrupting anything. You two seemed quite…enrapt with each other."

As Jude's cheeks turned a deep red, Tommy stepped forward in his usually confident way. Giving Jude a look that told her enough to know they'd talk tomorrow – something she surprisingly understood immediately, Tommy then haltered on his way back to his table, coming to a stop right next to Shay. Leaning a bit further towards his ear, making sure to speak low enough for Jude not to hear, he clenched his jaw. "Hurt her and I'll hurt you." It startled him to find himself giving away such passionate warning, but he couldn't help it.

Watching Tommy leave for his table, Shay's expression took a turn for the dark. "Son of a bitch!"

Finally meeting his eyes, Jude gave a shy smile. "I'm sorry it took so long. I didn't know Tommy was here and then we lost time, I guess."

Shay nodded, still unsure what to make of what he had just witnessed. He felt bound to point out, "Quincy never gets lost in time. Everything he does is deliberate."

"Guess he did this time," Jude innocently quipped. "Did the food arrive yet?" She tried changing the topic as she made her way back to their table. "I am really hungry by now." Purposely keeping her eyes away from the direction of Tommy's table, Jude was glad when she was finally seated again. "Interesting evening, huh?"

Shay shrugged. "What do you mean?"

Jude smiled. "First you take me to his fancy place, then you claim to want me back, and I even run into Tommy. Lots of things that never happened to me before."

"I didn't _claim_ to want you back," Shay said with just a hint of attitude. It was unnerving she wouldn't believe he was honest about it.

"Shay," Jude begun, heavily exhaling, "Let's just enjoy this evening, okay? I meant what I said. You and I will never become an item again and the sooner you accept that, the better!" By placing the first piece of the dish he had ordered for her into her mouth, Jude effectively ended the conversation. The quicker they were done here, the sooner she could feign tiredness and go home.

It had indeed been an interesting night, and she was afraid if she ran into Tommy again, the night could just take a turn for the worst. His eyes had been…unsettling, to say at least!

xxxxxx

"I think we needed tonight," Laura said as she undid her dress, waiting for Tommy to take over. He was busy undoing his shoes and socks. With resignation she began to see that he wouldn't comply with her hopes. She wouldn't ask him to show some sexual interest. No begging. She had stopped doing that; a result that came out of a mixture of disappointment and fear of rejection. "You and I, some alone time...we should do it more often." As nice as the evening had begun, as quickly its peak had come. At some point, sometime after a bathroom brake of his, Tommy's mood had taken a turn for the moodier side. Laura tried not to take it as a personal insult. He had shown some interest at all and she tried focusing on that instead, but it became harder with each passing moment.

"Definitely," Tommy replied, his thoughts clearly somewhere else.

She stopped undressing to observe him; lost in thought as he was he didn't notice. Laura felt a twinge of pain in her heart. Somewhere between knocking on her door, begging for a second chance after having cheated, and tonight, he had lost something. She couldn't quite say what exactly that 'something' was. Maybe it was his interest in her. Maybe it was a piece of himself. He wasn't the same person anymore. A vibrant surge of anger, but also self-pity, grew inside her. And it came so suddenly that it almost overwhelmed her.

He had done it again tonight. One bash of his eyes and she'd faltered. One smile from his lips and she'd forgiven him. One compliment and she'd felt reassured in his love for her. But here they were, home, dinner eaten, no longer on duty, so to say. He, the husband, wasn't on duty anymore. She sat down on the small bench in front of her vanity table and for a while just watched him doing his routine of preparing for bed. Had she become a routine for him? Every now and then a nice treat in exchange for peace and sex? She wondered. It was funny how one stray observation could change everything in a heartbeat. She wanted to know. She asked him.

"What made you suggest this night? Out of nowhere? I know you don't like going to fancy restaurants."

As she waited for his answer, she could see the small vein on his forehead protruding. It always came into prominent view when he fought to remain calm. She must have struck a nerve with him.

Tommy looked up. "Are you looking for a motive? Are you afraid it's just some move to keep you happy?"

"Is it?" Her voice remained balanced and serene. "I'm not mad. I'm not looking for a flaw in your idea of a perfect evening. I'm just curious. Since Vegas, we've hardly gone on a date. If we did, it was business. You can't blame me for being surprised by the timing."

"What timing? A nice evening, no parents, just you and me and a nice dinner? You used to love my invitations. Now you practically search for a hidden agenda."

"I loved them when I was sure you loved me." There. She had said it. Completely unwanted. Laura blushed, actually ashamed. She hadn't wanted to just blurt it out like some vengeful retort. It must have surely sounded like that.

"I do," he said and she could hear his annoyance in those tree letters. "I do."

Now that it was out, though, she didn't want to miss the opportunity. "You do what? Love me?"

"Yes."

"Then say it."

"I just did."

"No, I want you to say 'I love you.'"

"I do."

Laura nodded in understanding. If the topic weren't so serious, she might have laughed about his reply. "What is it about those words that makes them so hard for you to say? It can't be the fear of me shackling you or whatever other premature reasons other guys give. We're married. You're shackled, so to say. What is it, Tommy? You've never, not one single time, said those eight letters. Have you ever said them to anyone before?"

"I want to say it." Laura felt relief he at least knew what she was talking about. Intently listening to this rare moment of self-explanation coming from him, she remained quiet. "I honestly want to say those words to you. But I just…can't." Standing up, sitting down next to her, reaching for her hand, he continued. "I want to make you happy, Laura. You deserve to be happy. I know how much faith you've put in me and I know just how much I've hurt you when I cheated."

This came unannounced, she had to admit. Usually he dodged conversations about his feelings. Here he was, talking. She was struck. "You never told me why," Laura whispered, almost scared. "I want to know. You owe me the answer, Tommy. Was it really just the thrill of forbidden sex? Was it me? Was I not enough? Was it the other woman? Was she that irresistible? Please, just tell me," she pleaded, teary-eyed.

"I was...it...I just had a really bad week when it happened. I had some nightmares, reminding me of my past and..." She felt him squeezing her hand. "I met a woman in a bar. I knew her from before. As stupid and as ridiculous it may sound, I wanted to punish myself."

"By sex?" There was a mixture of anger and disbelief in her voice.

"By cheating on you. By giving you every bit of a reason to hate me. But suddenly you were really gone and it dawned on me that maybe I do have a right to be with you. To be with someone that can make me happy. I regret everything that I did that week. I feel bad for every tear you cried. Tonight, I honestly wanted to be with you. Be nice to you. And I want to say those words to you. But I can't. I'm trying, every day. But..."

"You feel like you don't deserve to say them?"

Tommy stiffened when Laura flung herself into his arms. He had almost told her that he didn't love her, yet, as he was genuinely working on falling in love with her – crazy as it sounded. But here she was, coming to a completely different conclusion.

Why couldn't he correct her? He pondered that question as he held her body against his. The day had been long, the moment with Jude had been more than confusing and here he was with his wife, having just had what felt like the first real conversation ever. Was it tiredness and exhaustion that kept him from speaking the truth? The fear of an argument, of a maybe-separation that made him stay silent? Or was it just cowardliness?

In the end, this whole moment felt like a pause. A time to catch breath. They would come back to this topic, he was sure. Until then, he decided, for reasons unknown and unwelcome, that it was best to let it rest.

"I love you," she assured him, "and until you're ready to say it back, I'll just remind you of it any chance I get. You do have a right to be happy."

"Okay…"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter eight – Knowing all about you…

Shay sat at the table when Laura found him there. She had been more than surprised to find his text on her cell this morning. Tommy had told her that he had cancelled all recording sessions scheduled for the day because of some emergency – Tommy had been convinced it was a lie and a cheap excuse at any rate. "No emergency, huh?" She sat down, placed her purse on the table and smiled. "Long time since we met. How's New York? I miss the city."

"It's cold and grey," he answered curtly. Looking up, Shay offered her an apologetic smile. "Sorry, long Saturday."

"Hot date?" she inquired, only mildly interest. They had never been the best of friends, but on occasion they had partied together.

He snorted at that. "Funny!"

Now she paid interest. "How so? Did I miss something?"

"Apparently. I didn't want to intrude yesterday, but I saw you at the restaurant, making flirty eyes to that stellar hubby of yours. I was there. With Jude."

Laura needed a moment to fully understand. Leaning back, telling herself not to jump at any conclusions, she asked, just to be sure. "My husband's [i]_help[/i]_ was your date? Jude was at the restaurant last night?" She remembered the bathroom break Tommy went on. The supposed bathroom break. After that, his mood had significantly faltered. A weird, unsettling emotion settled deeply within the pit of her stomach. "How are chances she snuck away for a break, to meet Tommy in the back?"

"Why do you think I wanted to meet?" He waved for the waitress, ordering two coffees. "I know Jude. She's not the type of girl that would sleep with a married man. That said, I think she's sleeping with your husband."

She gripped the table, feeling thrown off balance. Good thing she was sitting down. Last night…Tommy's words… God, she practically thanked him for treating her so poorly! Anger rose in her, alongside hurt and confusion. "You said Jude wouldn't sleep with married men. Yet you think…" Laura gulped. "She…" She couldn't speak it out.

"Humps your husband?" Shay shrugged. "I saw them last night. Here's the crazy part. I hope they are just sleeping together. Cause from the looks I witnessed, they are falling for each other. They are falling hard. I know the way Jude looks at someone when she's in love with that person. That look she gave me years ago, when she loved me, was nothing compared to what I saw last night."

"Gee, make me feel good, will you?"

"I'm being honest," he snapped, for some reason feeling awfully betrayed by Jude. She hated him for having cheated and here she was, doing just that! "Who else is, huh? I bet you've asked around! Jude, Darius, Kwest – who answered honestly? Tell me, please! Cause I'm dying to know. Your asshole husband has the whole crowd bowing at his feed, making sure to protect him from all things bad. Does he deserve that? No! I worked my ass off to succeed and what do I get? A classroom lecture on morals from Dear Uncle D! What does Quincy get? A woman who works her ass off pleasing him inside and outside the office _while_ making sure he won't get caught. I blew the recording session cause if I see his face today, I will punch a giant dimple into his pretty features! You should start looking for divorce attorneys. Better pick a good one. Just so you know, when he split from my aunt, after having been a colossal failure in the faithful-husband-department, Portia got a car and a cheap Vegas ring. And that's it. I wonder how much you will get. Guess there's a reason you guys weren't house shopping yet. Then again, you make your own money. Better watch out, or you'll wind up paying him alimony."

So little of what Shay had just said had actually registered with Laura. She was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that Tommy and Jude might be a 'thing'. "I gave him everything. I was the perfect wife. I _am_ the perfect wife. Sex, food, I listened to him…I cleaned his fucking apartment!" she burst out angrily only to compose herself again. So far this was all speculation. She had to remember that. "You really think he might be falling in love with Jude?" She could forgive his unfaithfulness. But there was no way she could change his heart's desires.

"I didn't even touch her and yet he gave me the warning of a lifetime to play nice with Jude."

"But…Jude? She's so…." What did that girl have that she couldn't offer him as well? The question throbbed in her head, bringing forth a painful headache. Did she even believe it? After her conversation with Tommy, she'd felt so reassured.

"Probably a killer in bed."

Now she had enough. "Watch your words!"

Shay gaped. "You defending her?"

Laura was shocked. Was she defending the woman her husband might be sleeping with? She shook her head, not knowing what else to do with it just then. "I don't know. I just…can't believe it, I guess." Yes, Jude was a snotty teenager with a severe lack of respect and manners, but somewhere, below all those ripped jeans and raccoon makeup, Laura had always seen a nice young girl who was working hard. Sure, she wouldn't admit to that if her life depended on it. But the brat had some guts and if there was one thing Laura liked, it was girls with guts. "I don't think they sleep together."

Shay took a long sip of coffee. "Suit yourself. But sex or no sex, Jude and Tommy have something going on and I sure as hell don't like it."

"I can't keep him from falling in love with her," Laura admitted defeated. "If it were just sex, I could do, like, _something_! I could tape her legs shut," she suggested helplessly, something she didn't do often. "What if he's really falling for her? I can't just sit back and let things happen!"

Shay smirked. "I'd like to see the legs-taping-part."

"I got to go."

"To see the hubby?"

"I don't know."

xxxxxxx

It was already Monday when Jude and Tommy met again. Two nights of sleep and a whole day of sunlight in between and Jude had almost forgotten about that one, insanely confusing moment last Saturday night. Technically, nothing had happened, other than two people looking at each other. Just, the intensity of said _looking_ had been so damn unsettling. Nobody had ever looked at her like that. _Never_.

And now, after more than thirty hours and a variety of attempts to get over it, she found she couldn't forget about it at all. His eyes had burned with something and maybe, if she weren't a virgin, she'd even known with what. It had been lust, she assumed. But had it really been? How'd she know that? And if she did know, would be good or bad to do so? He was married. She had – more than occasionally – to remind herself. He shouldn't even _be_ looking at her like that – lust or not! Whatever it had been in his eyes, there was no way in hell she should have been at the receiving end of it.

But, and that she wanted to know even more, what had it been in _her_ eyes? She had doubtlessly stared back. Oh, how she had stared back! Every little part of his body she had drunken in with her eyes, almost feasting on his sexual physique that had been ever so obvious beneath his clothes. She had wanted him in that moment. But for sex? If Jude remembered correctly, and she knew she did, she hadn't actually wanted a bed or something, or him inside her. She had rather wanted to lick, nibble and taste every damn spot of his ridiculously hot self. Okay, so maybe a bed she'd have not declined.

In any way, to understand a little more about her own emotions, and without going through the very embarrassing ordeal of asking her sister about it, Jude had decided she needed to learn more about the matter of sexual desire. Best done by reading about it…

_"Rodrigo ripped her barely existent negligee off and as the flimsy material slithered down her luscious curves, he gripped Evangeline's shoulders, hurling her in anticipation shivering body against his. The hard rod of his striking arousal pushed relentlessly against the lower belly of her virgin body. With almost brutal force – nothing less would still his urgent need for her – he captured her trembling lips, taking the first of many most delightful steps to introduce her to the world of maddening pleasure and unimaginably erotic, sexual acts._

_Evangeline was shy at first, responding only the vaguest bit, but with every deliciously sensual stroke of his tongue against hers, her reluctance vanished and soon she was shamelessly anchoring herself into his hard, male arms, begging by the breathless sighs escaping her lungs that he'd do something, _anything_. Between her legs a searing heat had built up. There was a tingling, a yearning, that she couldn't describe, but female instinct told her that only that steeled flesh of his could please the need she suffered from. It was a lot like a fever. If he let her go now, she'd drop to the floor like a boiling drop of water. Legs wobbled and she was more than just grateful Rodrigo was such a potent man, capable of carrying her slender body with just one arm if he had to._

"_Oh please…" she begged with a moan most unladylike._

_His throbbing organ pushed up against her stomach. In one swift motion of his she found herself tossed to the bed. She was vulnerable, naked, and unmistakably wet between the legs, and with any other guy she'd run scared, or started crying, afraid of what would happen next. Not him. Him, she trusted with all her life. And as she once again realized how deep her love for him rooted, he lowered his head to her heaving breasts, sucking hard on one poignant nipple, making her cry his name in agony. "Oh Rodri—" _

"What are you reading?"

Jude slammed the pages of her highly entertaining novel shut. The book, intriguingly titled 'Captured by a Beast' was robbed from her hands before she had any chance to hide it. "Give it back, Quincy!" Flying up, hurrying around the desk to stop him from reading the title, she even went as far as to jump up his back to cover his eyes with both hands.

It was too late, she realized in unprecedented shame, when he started laughing. "'Captured by the Beast'?" With ease he tugged first her hands apart and then her legs, making her drop behind him into the couch. His chuckles however kept coming. As he admired the book's self-explaining cover – a muscled naked man and a woman with long undone hair wearing nothing but a ripped dress that left as much as nothing to the imagination – Tommy turned to Jude and grinned. "This is what I pay you for? I had no idea you were that needy for some action!"

"I. Am. Not!" The words were clipped as she tore the book away from him. First muttering "Idiot!" Jude then sat back behind the desk and huffed. "What are you even doing here?"

"Interrupting you, apparently," he teased and laughed all over again. "Seriously, if you need a moment to collect yourself… You look flushed!"

"Because I just jumped you," She retorted, blushing even more as her poor choice of words dawned on her. "I meant to say," Jude bit out, "I'm flushed because of jumping up your back, because you stole something very personal from me and I tried to get it back!"

"Personal, huh?" His amusement just wouldn't die. "So you relate to the story! Have _you_ ever been captured by a beast? Or maybe you and some ex boyfriend took one of the scenes inside that kinky little book of yours as a playwright…" He wiggled his brows.

Jude tossed a pencil at him, wishing desperately for a rock to hide underneath. "Moron!"

Tommy chuckled. "Seriously, though. You really shouldn't read books like these! They give girls a wrong image of sex. Not everyone is as _talented_ as the men pictured there!"

Seeing her chance of landing a jest on her own, she snickered. "Don't worry. Nobody would expect you to be able to live up to _this_." She pointed to her book. "Besides, the guy on the cover and you are quite different. He's very muscled, and male, and strong, and raw, while you're more…_average_."

Taking the bait, he snorted, once more taking possession of the book. "Watch it, Jude!" He flipped to a random and started reading an excerpt. "_'Evangeline admired Rodrigo from her hidden spot behind the bathroom door. His unmatchable sensual physique oozed sexuality. The tan skin of his body told the story of his life. The everyday hard work on the outside, underneath the fierce sun, had burned his shell. The long hair was a dark black, reminding everyone of his Greek ancestors. A God's son.'" _Tommy rolled his eyes as he continued. "_'The height of his figure seemed a necessity to give room for the well-formed muscles that covered even the most hidden spots of his body. His face, hard-edged and yet boyish-gentle gave insight to his stricken inner self. So frightening to others he seemed, yet so undeniably charming to Evangeline, who felt elated to know him more than just superficially._

_With a tug he loosened the towel around his hips, unintentionally introducing her to a part of his body she had not yet had a chance to worship – not even from afar. As he turned around to reach for the bar of soap behind him, Evangeline found a gasp slipping from her quivering self, as her eyes feasted on his male flaccid extension. The size of it must be at least twelve inches-' _Oh my God," Tommy growled in shock. "You better know that that's not reality, right?"

Jude, meanwhile way passed being embarrassed, sat in her chair, eyes half-closed, imagining how it'd be to be Evangeline. Sighing dreamily, arms crossed, and head comfortably resting against the back of the chair, she smiled. "Twelve inches…"

Tommy tossed the book into her lap. "This is so far off reality, it should be banned! Seriously – twelve inches? Imagine that, Jude. I beg you to! You're the little virgin in this book, waiting for your first time, and there comes this guy along, sporting a hard on the size of a baseball bat! You can't possibly find that to be a scenario to look forward to! There's a right size for everything and twelve inches is NOT it!"

"Really?" She smiled sweetly. "How many inches do you have?"

"E—" He shot her a dirty look. "Jude!"

"You measured it?" She was cracking up. "_E _as in extra small?"

"_E _as in _End of discussion_!" He deliberately took a look at his watch and then threw a hostile glance at her. "I expect you to make up for the time you wasted by reading that stupid book!" As he once again snatched it away from her, barking a sharp "Give me that!" he then gave her a last glare before storming off.

He could hear her laughter long after he had closed the door behind him.

xxxxxx

_'Evangeline gasped as Rodrigo entered their now so frequently shared bed. Even now, that she had experienced the magic of lovemaking, all it's glory and frivolous delight, all it's sinful magic, for a very few seconds just before he'd make her his again she'd still be nervous. Not because she was afraid, or worried, because of his strength and height, or because of his incomparable masculinity that ever so impressively jutted heavenwards. No._

_She was always a tad bit nervous, worried she might not able to please him the way he certainly pleased her. Those thoughts would vanish in an instant, she knew, once his lips met hers feverishly, for those kisses made all her thoughts drift away. But like every other time, except their first when she had been so innocent and unaware of what would happen next, she promised herself to give herself to him in every way there was. How could she not? She owed it to him to respond ardently for his touches and caresses were worth of nothing less!_

_His hand trailed up her leg, while his other one supported his weight so damn effortlessly. Quivering in want beneath him, Evangeline could feel her body surrendering to his. Alluring as he was, her eyes fed on him while her lips began trembling. "Oh Rodrigo…" she wailed, out of breath already. Between her legs, a searing heat grew stronger by each passing second. She begged shamelessly! "Take me! Take me and make me yours, oh please my love!"_

_The hand that had roamed up her thigh met her hip, and then, so fierce, he went to grab her buttocks, shoving her burning core against his steeled flesh. "Feel me," he demanded. "Feel me against you! I will make you mine, my beautiful, I will make you mine for the rest of your life."_

_Evangeline whimpered. "Oh…" So many sensations boiled inside her. Her whole body felt enflamed, and if became unimaginably worse when his mouth placed those deliciously erotic, open-mouthed kisses all over her throat. His tongue, as powerful as every other bit of him, darted out, licking, scorching. She felt liquidating._

_Letting go of her derriere, Rodrigo's hand now spread her legs wide for him, and hurriedly, meeting her needs, pushed his proud manhood into her tender passage. The first of many screams emerged her lungs, the ecstasy of what she was feeling vibrating in each note of it. "Oh my darling Evangeline…" _

"Captured by the Beast? A classic."

Tommy's head flew up, unaware Kwest had watched him reading this idiotic book. "Jude brought it with her. She was so enrapt with it, she didn't even notice I entered the room!"

Kwest snickered as he sat down. "She must have been as enrapt as you were just now. I've been calling your name for minutes!"

He blushed. Tom Quincy actually blushed. "I'm…I was…bored! And, I figured if I read this, I could…give Jude even more reasons this thing is so ridiculous!"

"I bet!"

As he muttered a faint "whatever!", Tommy's shot him a wary look. "Whoa – wait! A classic? How'd you know this book? Don't tell me you read it, too!"

"Twice," he admitted, not the least bit embarrassed. "Angela, my ex, she had a whole collection of those. I'm telling you, once I started reading it, I could make her do everything for me! It's too bad she had to move to Europe, cause I swear I never had better sex than during those weeks." He nodded towards the book in Tommy's hand. "Take it a how-to guide!"

That got a scoff from Tommy. "Like I'd need to!"

"Neither did I," Kwest clarified. Male pride was a sensitive topic. "But I'm serious! There's one scene at the end, when Evangeline asks Rodrigo why he wouldn't sell the small cabin even though he's rich now and could afford himself a palace. He tells her because he fell in love with her in that place and would rather lose all his money than the place where they first made love. Angela asked me once why I'd still drive my car, even though it's forty years old. I told her I drove that car when I picked her up for our first date and I'd keep driving it until our last kiss and I'm telling you, the sex I got for that line was the best I ever had!"

Tommy snorted. "You keep your car because it's a '67 Barracuda. It's not old, it's a classic!"

"She didn't know that!" Kwest smirked. "Remember my words and keep reading that book. It'll only do you well!"

Skeptically eying the book, Tommy frowned. "I highly doubt that." Then again, it was startlingly entertaining. He had only read in it out of boredom at first, but had quickly discovered to be unable to place it away. Only, he – unlike Jude – hadn't focused on _Rodrigo's_ ludicrously long hard-on. God forbid!

Startlingly, he had pictured Jude in Evangeline's ripped negligee…

Ever since last Saturday, he looked at Jude differently. He was very well aware that he was married, and that he'd never be able to be with Jude. But that didn't keep him from occasionally fantasizing about her. She was definitely sexy, even more so when she was wearing dresses like that red, sparkling creation she had stunned him with two nights ago.

Earlier, when she had jumped on his back to gain back her beloved book, he had been so acutely aware of her presence that he had literally needed her to get off his back. The moment had been playful and highly amusing, and yet, his body had immediately taken note of her soft female curves as she had wrapped herself around him in order to get back what was hers.

So he had dropped her into the couch.

She probably hadn't even noticed it as something particularly odd. They had bickered and pushed each others buttons, but he had known it had not been _nothing_.

If he wanted to make his marriage work, he needed to stay away from Jude. Physically, at least. She was bad for his sanity. He had cheated on Laura before and back then, it had been with someone far less alluring!

Yet, he couldn't get himself to admit that for him to stay clear of any temptation it'd probably be best to stay clear of Jude completely! He simply refused to let that thought sink in. He didn't want to stay clear of her. He liked her. She was funny, witty, challenging, annoying also, but just as much special in a good way.

If only she were a little more ugly.

That would certainly make his life easier!

"Earth to Quincy!"

Once again his head snapped up. As he heard Kwest chuckling, most likely laughing about him, Tommy spotted Jude's head right in front of his. This was exactly what he meant with needing physical distance! How was he supposed to get over his attraction to her when she was so damn close? And why was her breath smelling of red licorice?

"Did you eat my licorice?" His eyes were menacing.

Jude grinned. Then she leaned back, obviously feeling not the least bit of remorse for her actions. "It was revenge," she explained smugly. "For stealing my book! I want it back. I'm done with all there's to do for the day and Sadie will pick me up any second. So," she said and wiggled her open hand in front of him. "Hand it over!"

Kwest remarked from his sideline-position, "He can't. He fell in love with the story himself!"

Eyes wide, Jude gaped. "You read it?" Then she laughed. Mockingly, Tommy was sure. "Aren't getting any at home, aye? Now you need replacement and what's better than my _stupid _book!"

Tommy shoved the book into Jude's still waiting hand. "I do NOT need replacement! And what I get and not get at home is none of your damn business!"

Startled he had replied so fiercely, Jude frowned. "What's wrong? I was joking!" She should get extra-credit for even doing so! After last Saturday, it surely wasn't easy. Every time she saw him, she recalled that moment with him in the back of that fancy restaurant, when their eyes had locked and a fire had lit. Who knew what would have happened if Shay hadn't shown up to pull them both back down into real life.

Now, as often lately, she tried pretending nothing had happened after all, but it was getting increasingly different. When she had jumped on his back in the heat of the moment, earlier, she had so quickly lost control it was staggering. Almost in loss of free will, she had been about to bury her nose into his nape, to breathe in his smell of expensive cologne and male musk. She had been lucky he had dropped her into the couch that second.

Sniffing at him surely would have been fun to explain!

Which was yet another reason she had decided to delve into the world of erotic novels. If she learned to understand what she craved, she might be able to control those at times overwhelming urges. And if she could control them, she could turn them off!

So, happy she had her book back, Jude however noted the oddness of Tommy's behavior. "Seriously, are you okay? Cause I didn't mean to offend you or anything!"

He didn't know why he had snapped at her. There was just something about her that made his emotions go from zero to hundred in a split second. And that she had so carelessly joked about his sex life – not for the first time that day – gave him to understand that she wasn't suffering under the same unnerving confusion he was experiencing. Possibly, she wasn't even feeling _anything _for him – not that he felt _anything_ for her! – and last Saturday, when she had returned his gaze so deeply, had been nothing but a trick by his fuddled mind. Maybe she had just stared back in shock, and not in…had it been _desire_?

Tommy sighed. He was getting a headache. "Sorry for snapping."

"It's fine," Jude assured. "No offense taken." She checked the time. "Sadie must be waiting for me already…"

"You don't have your own car, do you?" Tommy didn't wait for Jude's reply, tugged out his car keys and tossed them towards her. She barely caught them. "The Porsche stands right next to D's hideously yellow Maserati. I need you to be mobile, in case you have to go somewhere. One scratch though and your dead!"

The last part, Jude didn't hear. Disbelievingly ogling the silver key dangling from the leather key fob, she barely dared to breathe, afraid this was all a dream and she might wake up any second. "For…for real…?" she stammered.

Forgotten was the chaos in his mind. Now, he was simply laughing. "It's a car, Jude. It's not Bono. You can breathe again.

And Jude did. Then she squealed so shrill both Tommy and Kwest flinched. Giving Tommy a fierce, quick hug, she practically ran out the door, only calling a faint "Call me as soon as I can run an errand for you!" before slipping out of his view.

"Can you believe how thrilled she is about the car?" Tommy still chuckled.

Kwest however wasn't the least bit amused. Instead, he was deadly serious as his eyes fired a warning glare. "You're married!"

Bewildered, Tommy uttered, "What the hell? I know I'm married!"

"I'm just saying! Jude's not the average girl you meet and I can tell you've noticed, too. But she's barely grown-up."

Still irritated, Tommy snapped back, "I need her to be mobile. That's all there is to it! It's not like I told her to keep the car!"

"Not yet." With a sniff of distrust, Kwest stood up and decided to go home, too. "If that's all there is, fine. Just don't let there become more! See you tomorrow."

xxxxxx

Jude shifted uncomfortably on the barstool that night, wondering just what on earth Tommy's wife could possibly want from her that she'd suggest meeting at this fancy bar. Looking over her shoulder repeatedly, she grew nervous more and more. Was it the car Tommy had temporarily given her? Was Laura coming to take it back? Or was it another round of questions about the fidelity of her husband that she wanted answers for? "One giant orange juice," Jude told the barkeeper and began fidgeting with the napkin in front of her, nearly dropping off the stool when Quincy's wife sat down next to her.

"Jumpy, are we?" Her eyes were hidden behind blond strands of hair and a whole bush of lashes. No woman had lashes like that, Jude decided. But were they fake? They looked so real. "Do I have something in my eyes," Laura asked, noticing Jude's stare.

The assistant ripped her gaze away. "No, no. Just…why are we here?"

Laura took a deep breath, ordered a diet coke and turned to Jude, looking squarely at her. "I don't like lies. I don't like games. But most importantly, I don't like not knowing something. I don't like wondering. I had a meeting of a rather strange kind with Shay. I believe he is your ex-boyfriend."

Warily nodding, Jude waited for her to continue.

"I like the truth. Are you sleeping with my husband?"

She probably should have been outraged by the question. Shocked by the idea. Anything. But Jude merely shook her head, looked directly into Laura's eyes and answered honestly. "No, I don't."

"Are you in love with my husband?"

Not saying a word now, Jude returned her gaze towards the bartender, observing him doing his job mixing cocktails and tending to costumers. Shouldn't she blurt an offended 'No!' or stand up and leave? Jude did neither.

Laura bit her lower lip as she nodded softly. "I was afraid you were." She took a swig from her glass, sat it down and began playing with a napkin, leaving Jude to realize that maybe they weren't that different at all. They were both women in love, trying to cope with the reality of their situations. "I suppose paying you money won't make you go away?"

"Not really." Other people had made that experience and they had failed as well.

"Then this is quite a turn of events, I say." Waving for the bartender, Laura ordered a Martini. "Alcohol?"

"Please!" Jude agreed.

"Two Martini then."

"I don't want to be that person that causes trouble." Jude finished off her orange juice, preparing for the real drink. "I started working with Tommy because I liked the idea of working at a record label. The rest just happened."

"Rest?"

"The feelings," Jude whispered, surprised by her own honesty. "They just came."

Almost feeling sorry, Laura nodded. "They usually do. Does Tommy…I mean, does he…"

"No! God, no! Tommy is…he works exceptionally hard to make you happy. He wants to be a good husband. You wouldn't believe the things he does to achieve that."

"Humor me," Laura said.

Jude looked away. "He's not one for the big gestures, but he does a lot of little things. Like making sure I cancel all parties where some scorned ex-girlfriend might show up to bother you. Or he buys a lot of presents to keep you—"

"At peace? Seriously, Jude? Avoiding ex-girlfriends, that's purely selfish. And the gifts?" She scoffed. Jude knew all that herself, but what was she supposed to say?

"He had every chance to walk away from you," she eventually spoke. "But he stayed. He wants to be a good husband. He might not do a good job at it, but he is trying."

That, Laura had to give him. He was still around.

"Why are you with him?"

"Excuse me?"

"He cheated. I know he did. Not this time, but the last time you two dated."

Caught in this strange moment of honesty, Laura shrugged. "Hope for a better second try?" A disillusioned, almost bitter smile broke free. "I love my husband. When he asked me for a second chance – in that one moment where he was begging me to take him back – I saw something. I saw determination. Nobody ever wanted me as much as he did in that moment. And I'm not talking about sex. He wanted _me_. And so I figured, what could I possibly do wrong, taking back someone who wants me so badly. The things we learn as time passes..." she mused. "Would I take him back again? Knowing what I know today? I wish I could say 'no', but I honestly don't know. But let me ask you a question. If the moment comes and you find yourself in a room, alone with my husband, who's looking at you as though you're his entire world, will you say 'no' to him?"

"I wish I could say 'no'," Jude breathed, deeply ashamed.

"Now you know why I took him back."

Meanwhile, both had emptied the Martini glasses. "What will happen now," Jude wondered. "Do I go to work tomorrow, behaving as if nothing happened?"

"What else there is to do?" Laura asked in return. "You know Tommy. He isn't one for confrontation and any given opportunity he takes the easy way out. If I tell him what I know, what do think will happen? Do you hope for a solution? Two women are in love with the same men. There is no solution. Just time. I will not give up, and your feelings won't vanish. If we meet again, I will treat you as indifferently as I've always treated you and I hope you will do the same. And if the moment comes that you will find yourself in a room, alone with my husband, I know now that I can't count on you to do the right thing. Which leaves me with nothing but trust in my husband, a man who has failed me before. Is that a good prospect? Certainly not. But like I said, time will tell how this story ends. Have a good night, Jude."

xxxxxx

After two rounds of sweaty sex – something Laura was surprisingly passionate about – Tommy finally dared to tell his wife about the car he had temporarily given Jude. Laura, curled up against him with a satisfied little grin, was a bit surprised when he sat up. "Something wrong?"

"There's something I should tell you and actually it's not even _anything_ at all, but…" With a sigh he admitted, "I gave the Porsche to Jude. Just for a few weeks, though! She doesn't have a car and needs to be mobile, in case she has to go somewhere for me."

The grin fell from her face, but she remained cuddled up. He considered that a good thing. After Kwest's irritating reaction towards his actions he had been half-afraid Laura might throw a fit over it. To him, it was nothing but merely a logical act. Jude needed a car, he had a spare one, so why not hand it over then? It had nothing to do with his confused mind, his lingering attraction for his assistant, or with the fact that he had liked the wide smile Jude had given him upon receiving the keys.

"Okay." Scooting closer to curl up against him again, Laura shrugged. "It's fine. Better than you having to drive her, or pick her up from school."

He wanted to roll his eyes. He had picked Jude up twice, and once – sadly – someone in Jude's school had discovered it and a picture of her entering his car had ended up in some tabloid. It was hardly a worth mentioning, yet the accompanying story had said that Tommy was already fed up with his wife and now searched for some 'entertainment' in high school. While Jude had been thrilled to find her name in a tabloid, Laura had been a little…_miffed_.

To make sure she'd not get _miffed_ again, he agreed with her, albeit only outwardly. "Right, cause it's really annoying to constantly pick her up!" He hoped she had not heard what bit of sarcasm that had slipped into that remark.

Silence overcame them and Tommy found it was not the good kind. He was proven right when Laura turned away and pulled the bedcover further up. "I'm getting tired and…goodnight."

Okay, so maybe she _was _miffed, and maybe she didn't like that Jude was driving his Porsche, after all. He should have just lied and said something like, he lost a bet to her and for that she had his car for a month. Or, not tell her Jude had the car, at all, and instead it would have been better to claim it was broken and now out to get fixed.

But no – he just had to give that damn honesty-thing a try!

"Honey, are you okay?" Tommy cooed. He was in no mood for a looming fight.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be? It's not like I care about whom you give cars to! And like you said, Jude _needed_ it."

Almost about to groan in frustration, Tommy suddenly remembered Kwest's words about Jude's book and how it's content might one day help him out…

_'…I just don't get why you talked to your ex-wife," Evangeline murmured as she cowered in front of the fireplace, wearing only his shirt. "You said you hate her!"_

_Sinking next to her to his knees, Rodrigo touched her chin tenderly, brushing the delicate skin with his thumb before tilting her face just a fraction. He needed to look into her eyes. They always gave away her true emotions. "I told her I'm not hating her anymore." As predicted, hurt filled her orbs, but he wasn't done with his explaining. "I told her I'd not feel anything for her anymore. You showed me the true depth of love, my Darling, and it erased any other memory of it I ever had. When she betrayed me with my brother, I was heartbroken. At least, I thought I was. But it was you who made me see my heart had never been involved with her to begin with. You were the one that made my heart beat in the first place…' _

"I only gave Jude the car, so she could take over more of my every day life. The whole day, I thought of you, Darling. You showed me the true meaning of '_want'_," he hushed into her ear, surprised the she responded to the mush he was telling her. "You're the one that made my heart throb with it and I'm only trying to make time in my life so you and I can enjoy our marriage a little more."

Spinning around in his arms, her lips met his ferociously. Inwardly, Tommy grinned. He made a mental note to order his own copy of the book first thing tomorrow morning. While he had never had any troubles sweet-talking women before, he had to admit, doing it with a little help worked even better. The author of said book was female after all and by that knew exactly what women wanted to her.

Laura, meanwhile, smiled on the inside. There was one thing she could give her husband that Jude would hesitate to offer. Her body. If she could satisfy Tommy physically, he'd be too exhausted, too satiated, to search for more in other people. So she hoped, at least. It was the hope of a desperate woman. The hope of a woman, who began to doubt that anything she did even mattered to her husband, and yet the hope of a woman who couldn't stop doing everything she could, simply for a chance that Tommy might stay with her, after all.

xxxxxx

Jude found him in her chair, legs outstretched and crossed, reading away in what she knew was the very same book she had just finished last night. A time when she had needed distraction from the rather revealing talk she had with his wife. Now, a day later, she felt lost. Never had she dared to dream of having a chance with Tommy. Now, she begged that she never would. She prayed she wouldn't find herself in that closed room with him, alone, with an opportunity. But she was determined not to let last night become too much of a game-changer. Instead, she'd take what Laura had said was all they had anyway: time. So, with eyes crinkling, she coughed to make her presence known and decided, it was time for the 'nothing ever happened'-routine to start. "_Enrapt_ again, are we?"

Tommy smirked. He was no longer embarrassed reading this under-appreciated genre of literature. "Are you kidding? It's genius. I ordered a whole stash of books this morning. Every single book that author wrote!"

Dumbfounded, she must as looked quite shocked for he chuckled before elaborating, "This is how I will make my marriage work out great – a whole damn lot of compliments, declarations, and slow languid lovemaking!"

"That's not a marriage," Jude retorted. "It's a deception! Laura will think you've irrevocably fallen in love with her. I hardly think that's fair!" Despite not wanting last night to become a big deal, after having met such vulnerable side of his wife, she wanted him to be honest to her. She had earned honesty. And it bothered her even more that his deceits were based on _her_ book!

Tommy scowled as he closed the pages. "What makes you think my love for Laura would be deception? She's my _wife_. And making her feel good is not unfair, but my job as her husband!"

"Like you cared about that job before," she found herself blurting out too fast. The expression on Tommy's face turned towards something she'd describe as angry. He had never looked at her like that before and she hardly enjoyed it now. Immediately regretting what she had said, she ruefully apologized. "I'm sorry. It's really none of my business." Even though they frequently talked about it, actually judging it felt out of place.

Tommy agreed. "No, it's not."

An awkward silence overcame them and it took a minute until Jude spoke up again. "I have work waiting for me, so…can you let me have the seat at your PC?"

"Sure." Giving up his chair, he reached for his jacket in the same moment. "Jude…"

"I'm really sorry," she assured once more, feeling significantly unhappy knowing he might harbor some resentment against her. "I overstepped. It's just…" Even though she regretted saying what she had, she wasn't sorry for speaking the truth. "I think that feeding her compliments, just so she'll stay your happy wife, is lame."

As he was half-out the door, Tommy turned to look at her once more. "Do you really think I'm that shallow? I know a marriage is more than flattery and sex. I was merely making a joke when saying it's all I'd need to keep her satisfied! Yes, I did order those books, yes, they do come in handy I have discovered, and no, it's none of your damn business what and what not I tell my wife to make her happy. But in case you forgot I have a lot of lacking attention to make up for and figured some well-put compliments might bring a smile to my wife's lips. By the way, my ignorant and shallow self felt sorry for intruding your personal space yesterday by stealing your book in the first place. There's a gift for you in the first drawer, right next to your beloved post-its. I guess you will trash it since it's nothing but a paid-for-item. But explain to me, Jude: what's it that you'd rather have me do than be nice to those I care for? Would it make you feel better if I went to Laura and broke her heart by telling I'm unsure our marriage even stands a chance? Or would you prefer me to be blatantly honest and tell her I got lost in your eyes the other night? Cause that would definitely bring some joy to her! So, if you have a better idea of how to make her feel welcome in my life, I beg you, _do _tell me!"

Jude didn't say a word.

"I figured," he snarled. Once he was out the door, it slammed shut.

Feeling like a colossal idiot, she opened the first drawer of his desk and found a small black box, wrapped with a hot pink bow. A little scarily, unsure what to expect inside, she opened it to find a diary with a small silver lock and a key to it. There was a post-it sticking to the leather it was bound in.

_'It has a lock. In case I forget I'm not entitled to know all about you…_

_-Tommy' _

Now she felt even worse.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter nine. The truth and other lies.

On Wednesday afternoon, Jude was devastated to find that Tommy had called in to take the day off. She hardly found it fair of him to hide from a confrontation with her. Yesterday, she had been sorry and saddened by the way the day had unfolded, but today, she was only sad, not sorry any longer. She had merely stated her opinion and after all that he had made her do for him, she felt more than allowed to do it. He might have had a point in calling her out for judging him too quickly, but in the end, he had made her feel horrible for simply pointing out stuffing compliment after compliment down his wife's throat was neither fair to her, nor him, for they both earned better.

And that, she genuinely believed!

She was just about to call Tommy, demanding an explanation for his absence, when the door opened. The guy entered just didn't turn out to be the one she was dying to see. "Shay?" Jude placed the phone away. "I thought you left city already. You weren't at the hotel Sunday morning and Tommy said that you blew off your recording session with him that afternoon."

He entered and closed the door. "After Saturday, I needed some time to think." Unasked, he sat down across from her, faintly smiling, though she'd say it carried a whiff of sadness along. "After seeing you with Quincy I felt…defeated."

"How so?" Jude asked as she sat back, eying him warily.

He snorted. "Another second alone and the two of you would have been all over each other. You never looked at me that way when you and I used to date," he remarked unhappily.

"I was fifteen when we dated."

"You know what I'm talking about, then."

Jude blushed. Was it really that obvious?

With a low hanging head, he nodded. "It's okay. It's not like I'm in love with you or anything, but I admit I was attracted to you and finding out that Quincy is who you want was a little bit…crushing. But still, I like you, and after how badly I treated you, I figured I owe you something."

Still confused what he actually wanted from her, Jude dipped her head an inch forward and frowned. "Well…?"

"I'm giving you free advice," he said. Jude rolled her eyes. Shay then rolled his. "I know him longer than you do. No doubt, his marriage won't last. Especially not with you in the mix! He's attracted to you and I'd bet a Grammy he's already thinking about ways to lure you into his bed. Stay clear of him if you don't want another broken heart. You think I did badly when we split up? You haven't seen the shattered hearts left behind in his wage! He's ruthless. The wet spots on the sheets have yet to dry while he's already out looking for the next one."

As Shay continued his ramble about the evil Tom Quincy and his reckless actions, Jude realized something she hadn't yet understood: She was probably the only person in the entire world that actually believed Tommy could make his marriage work. That had been what she had tried telling him yesterday. And how had it come across?

Like yet another dagger shot at him!

No wonder he had bitten back. She'd shown her teeth too, had she been in his place. Nobody but her believed in him and that itself was the weirdest thing, for she also knew there was some odd attraction between them that just wouldn't die down, plus some minor unaddressed feelings on her side. But, she wasn't the type of girl that would ever sleep with a married man. She had thought about Laura's words. Given the situation, she _would_ walk away from Tommy! And it was out of question Tommy would divorce anytime soon.

She needed to speak with Tommy right away!

"I'm sorry, Shay. Thanks for trying to picture Tommy as the ultimate evil, but it failed. See yourself out! By the way, thanks for talking to Laura about me and Tommy. Great friendship you and I have there!" Walking out, she surely wouldn't wait for him to be gone.

xxxxxx

He was getting bored. Seriously so! Amazon had not yet shipped his books, the one he had he had finished, all paper work was done, all personal mail had been responded to, he had even gone as far and placed the occasional, twice a year-courtesy call to his mother and that hadn't been fun! It was interesting how much one person could accomplish in one and a half days if ready to do anything only to keep himself from thinking about a certain snotty assistant.

He'd have had endless sex, but Laura had left for a photo-shoot in London yesterday morning, so he was alone at home. Monogamy sucked.

Maybe he should clean the windows… It couldn't be that hard, could it? The cleaning lady always cleaned all the windows in only one morning and she was a tiny woman over fifty! Surely, he'd be faster than her! He could even make it a personal challenge and try cleaning all windows in less than an hour!

God, how desperate had become…

The doorbell rang. He hurried towards the door. Maybe it was Kwest, suggesting a guy's night out. Who cared that it was barely four pm. They could head out right now! Tommy opened the door. No Kwest. "Jude."

She gave a sheepish smile. "Hey. Can I come in, or is it a bad time?"

Well, it was either Jude or windows. "Come inside." He closed the door after her. "Came by to call me a bad husband some more?"

"Not really," she told him, slyly adding, "though, at times, you are!" He was just about to get angry again, when she held up her hand to stop him. "I've come in peace. And, to apologize! You're making an effort in being a better husband and I called you lame and it must have sounded that I doubted you even could be better. It wasn't what I had tried to say."

"What did you try telling me?" He wasn't sure he wanted to know. Her words had stung pretty badly the last time she had evaluated him.

"I believe in you. I think you can be an extraordinary good husband. That's why I was so confused about the books. You don't need them. I do think you should try the honesty-thing, but you don't have to let her in on all the details of the past – especially not a certain Saturday night," Jude murmured with rosy cheeks. "But…I've read the book, too! Those things that Rodrigo tells Evangeline are stupid and over the top and not at all what a woman wants to hear. At least, I wouldn't want to hear them. If I were Laura, I'd – She's not here, is she?"

With a chuckle, Tommy shook his head.

Jude timidly smiled. "If I were your wife, I'd want to hear how you're struggling to make this marriage work. That'd tell me you're genuinely trying! I know people who honestly love each other and they just let their relationship fall apart because they don't work on it. You don't love her, or aren't in love with her yet – whatever – but you're putting up a fight to make her happy, anyway. You went to that awesome restaurant with her, even though I know you hate those public places. You put up with her parents. You pretend you like her food. That should mean something! And if that doesn't mean anything to her, but she only cares about those ridiculously over-the-top compliments, then something is wrong with her and not you! But I know that Laura isn't that person. And I do think you two stand a chance."

Stunned by her arguments, Tommy was out of words for a moment. She was quite a unique girl, he found. And, she was possibly the first person since his wedding that actually thought he had the potential of being a good husband. With a smile, he met her eyes. "Thank you for coming here and telling me. I'm sorry, too. I blew up on you yesterday. I think I was still reeling on something Kwest said and…never mind. You do have a right to tell me your opinion. I need you to be honest with me, cause there aren't many people who are."

"Don't worry," Jude quipped. "I never hold back!"

"I've noticed that much," he said with a laugh.

xxxxxx

Somehow they had wound up on the couch, watching a movie. They were hardly paying attention to it; however, Jude had brought up the infamous book at one point and now, both were having a vivid discussion over some of the rather outrageous scenes.

"Seriously," Jude professed, holding up both a hand as if to swear on something, "if a guy told me he'd rather kiss me for the next then years, than make love to me for the next five, I'd be really hurt. I want a guy that finds my irresistible. He shouldn't be able to keep his hands off me! Every morning when he wakes up, his first thing to do would be to wake me with…" A ferocious blush hit her face when it dawned on her what she had just said.

Tommy grinned. "Do continue! Wake you with what?"

She slapped his shoulder, still blushing. "You know what I mean! I don't want a guy who can go without touching me for ten years! That'd be boring!"

He could only relate. And he could imagine it just as well! Jude, in his bed, naked, snuggled deeply into the sheets. He'd lay behind her, aroused, rubbing…he seriously needed to change the topic! "More pizza?"

Surprised, but always hungry, Jude handed him her plate. "I can't believe they only take ten minutes to deliver to you! I have to wait over an hour when we order!"

With a laugh he let her in on his secret. "I give him fifty bucks extra for ignoring every order that came in before mine."

She tossed a couch cushion at him. "You're the reason I always have to wait for my pizza? How could you?" Jude was appalled. "Delivery service is a sacred institution. One does not bribe them! There's a natural order one has to respect and when I call at four and you at four'o'five, then I have a right to get my pizza first!"

"You're just jealous you can't afford a fifty-dollar tip!"

"Hell yes I am!" Both laughed.

Tommy returned with the Pizza, sat down again, and while Jude watched what was happening on the TV screen, he found himself oddly captured by her. When had he ever watched TV with Laura, eating pizza, simply having fun? Never, was the devastating answer. With Jude, he often felt more at ease. She wasn't expecting anything from him, which made it easier for him to just let go and be himself.

"You're staring at me," Jude pointed out, her voice lowered, unwilling to meet his eyes as she concentrated on her feet on the ground.

Tommy looked away. "Sorry. I was…just lost in thought, I guess."

Finished with her slice of pizza, Jude placed the plate away and stood up. "I think I should go now."

"Because I looked at you," Tommy asked in confusion. For some reason he didn't want her to leave. "I promise not to do it again," he assured, albeit he was looking at her just then, hoping she'd sit down again. "The movie hasn't even ended yet."

"Like we were paying attention anyway," Jude remarked. On her feet, but not moving, she wasn't sure what she was waiting for. Leaving now wasn't what she wanted, but at the same time she knew that every other minute she'd stay would only be a danger. Damn his wife, damn her question about being alone in a room with Tommy. This morning she had been so sure that she could deal with that but here she was, running away, because she knew she couldn't. Damn it! What if they caught each other's eyes again in that way they had last Saturday? A similar expression, she believed, she had already seen a moment ago on Tommy's face. "I don't think it'd be smart if I stayed."

Now he stood up, finding himself startlingly close to her. There had been a million arguments he was prepared to deliver to make her stay, none of them appropriate to come from a married man, but the second their eyes locked, his mind went blank. A soft scent of vanilla evaporated from her and he found he loved that smell. As he gazed at her, delving deep into the sparkling blue of her eyes that were alternating between innocence and longing, he felt the soft puffs of her respiration hitting his skin ever so fleetingly.

Jude had been right. This wasn't smart. But did he care? Hardly.

A frisson of sexual awareness rushed through his body and it itched in his fingers to touch her. He had forgotten he was married. Hell, if he'd been in the middle of a room full of paparazzi, he'd not have noticed them, either! "Jude…"

"I have to go!" Then she ran out.

xxxxxx

They pretended the moment never happened.

Again.

Jude sat behind Tommy's PC, checking the latest RSVPs for his upcoming birthday while he was flipping through a catalogue, highlighting several items Jude was supposed to suggest to everyone who didn't know what to get as a present.

"This is so wrong," she complained. "You have everything and still get more, while I have nothing and have to limit my wish-lists to ten items or less."

"Live ain't fair," Tommy quipped, circling a picture of a motorcycle helmet. "What did you get for your birthday?"

She winced upon remembering. "Two weeks of College Application Prep Classes from my mother and a Beatles Album from my Dad. I wanted neither."

"That sucks," he agreed. He spotted a leather-bound guitar case in the catalogue and circled it.

"Um…did you invite Portia?" Her eyes fixed on the screen.

"Portia as in my ex-wife? Why would I invite her to my birthday?"

"I don't know, but she sent an email assuring you she'll be there. That's not good."

Placing the catalogue away, he looked at Jude, his expression skeptical. "I know that's not good. How come you know that's not good? Do you know her? You know, from your time as Shay's girlfriend?"

Avoiding meeting Tommy's eyes, Jude gave a small nod. "We've met before. On occasion…"

"You don't seem happy," he observed immediately. Portia was a nice woman, not towards him, but to most other people, so naturally Jude's reaction surprised him.

"Like I said, we've met on occasion and…she's one of a kind. A very _determinded _kind."

"Portia?" He scoffed. Determination wasn't a word he'd connect his ex-wife with. Conniving, maybe. Selfish. Cold. Then again, only when it came to him!

Jude wasn't willing to explain in all detail how she'd come to despise that woman, or what part she played in her giving up music as her life's goal. "Long story. You want me to un-invite her?"

"I beg you to!"

xxxxxx

"Hey Kwest!" Jude caught up with him in the parking lot. "Remember that bet about how long Tommy's marriage would last?"

"The one where you and I picked next week?"

"Yep." She blushed, guilty and a tad bit ashamed. "I kind of want out."

"New inside info?"

With a uncomfortable face she shook her head. "Tommy and I have become friends. I told him I believe in him and his efforts to make this thing work. And so far he's doing really well! It wouldn't be fair if I bet against him behind his back."

"Hm."

She frowned. "What's that supposed to mean. Hm-what?"

"Nothing. Just…you two…it seems odd you'd help him save his marriage."

Sensing an accusation, she scowled. "How's that?"

"Nothing. Just a stray observation."

"What did you observe exactly?" Crossing her arms, this whole moment was becoming gradually upsetting, although she couldn't quite explain why. She felt judged by him. He placed her into a certain category she hardly liked. "Are you trying to tell me there's something going on between Quincy and me? Cause there isn't!"

"I like you, Jude. And I know you two don't sleep together. No offence! But something is going on and I think you know. You just don't want to admit it. So take this as an advice: He won't change for you. Even if he'll divorce for you, then you're just the next girl in a long line of women he feels drawn to. You're nothing special to him, just a good-looking, interesting female that sparked his interest. Right now you're somehow out of reach and that makes him want you. But the second he had you, that fascination, all that what's making him seem so attracted and intrigued by you, will be gone and all that will remain is a man incapable of fidelity."

"One friend you are," she sneered. "Does he know how little faith his best friend has in him? Betting against his marriage was bad. We shouldn't have done it in the first place. But I hardly knew him then while you're his best friend!" Being called naïve and a cheater-to-be, more or less, made her angry and it showed.

"He knows what he can and can't do. And didn't you tell me he expects you to cover for him once he cheats?"

"He asked me to do my job. I will do that. Can you say the same thing about being his friend?"

"As a friend, I don't fool myself about him. He is who he is!"

"And who would that be?" Tommy asked, walking up behind him. His voice carried disappointment, indicating he'd been listening for a while.

Kwest sighed heavily. "The day was long. Let's just talk tomorrow."

"Don't bother."

"T, we're friends. We always spoke our minds."

"Maybe we should stop doing that." He tossed a pair of keys at Jude. "You forgot those inside. See you tomorrow."

"Quincy…" She called after him, strangely uncomfortable leaving him now.

But he only shook his head. "Tomorrow, Jude." Then he walked back inside.

xxxxxxx

"This is ridiculous!" Shay kicked his uncle's office door shut before storming up to Big D's desk. He leaned across it, angrily. "I will not speak on behalf on Tom Quincy. This is my life, D. If Quincy cheats, let the world know the truth. No matter how fake my words are, nobody will believe I mean it, anyway."

"I'm trying to let the world know the truth," Darius replied with firmness. "Tom wants to make this marriage work. He needs good headlines and it won't kill you if you mention on one or two occasions that he's a dedicated Producer whom you've witnessed being extraordinarily kind to his wife."

"Why are you so damn eager to fix his screwed up life, huh?"

Darius gave a snide smile. "To stay in shape. It's only a matter of time 'til I have to save your ass again. You're as dumb as he is when it comes to living with the public eye upon you. You do as you please until some stupid decision backfires. I'm stuck dealing with it, but instead of a 'thank you' all I get are complaints and ungrateful snarls. I'm getting tired of that, Shay. I'm getting tired of spending my day selling you two idiots as everybody's darlings! Here is some fact for you: You made your bed – now live in it. Meaning, you work for me and do as I say. You wanted me to make you famous, guess what: It comes with a price!"

"You really want me to tell that crap to the press?"

"Exactly. And there's one more thing." Darius pulled open one of this desk drawers and drew out an envelope. Shay eyed it with intrigue. The second he found out about its content, however, he wished for it to just disappear. "It came this morning. Along with a note. Apparently, there's some photographer out there who's looking out for you."

"I can explain," Shay tried, but Darius shushed him.

"Coke? In a public club in New York no less?" He laughed bitterly. "You have some balls marching in here, rambling about Tommy's screwed up life. This could be the end of your not-so-stellar-anymore career. Ever thought about that?"

"I'm not a freaking junkie! It was a party, it was offered to me, I had a bad couple of days and was pretty wasted already. It was a mistake, one that happened only once."

"I want you to ask Jude out. And make sure she says 'yes'."

Shay was shocked. "How did we go from drugged me to Jude?"

Darius reached into his drawer once more, pulling out a tabloid that featured a picture of Shay and Jude emerging a restaurant. It was the night they had ran into Tom and his wife, Shay immediately realized. He hadn't seen the paparazzi, which hadn't meant there weren't any. His uncle pointed to the headline.

"[i]'Shay Mills and Girl in Red. Spotted last week, Shay and former girlfriend Jude Harrison were seen leaving the restaurant after what seemed to be a fancy night out. Maybe a return to his beginnings will bring back some fans. The Rapper, who rose to fame with the 2004 hit single 'S to the H to the A to the Y' hasn't had a Top Ten single in 18 months, but continues to make headlines by getting arrested and collecting DUIs.'"

Taking a long look at his nephew, Darius closed his drawer before standing up. "Jude is good publicity and you need good publicity."

"She hates me for what I did to her. For what we did to her."

"Then fix it. You remember how to sugarcoat women, don't you?"

"You want me to lie to her?"

"I want you to date her. I don't care how, or what it takes."

"I could buy her every damn diamond there is and she wouldn't take me back, much less agree to this farce."

Big D gave a nonchalant scoff. "Beg, then. Pay her. Do whatever it takes."

"She's not a whore! Did it ever occur to you that her upstanding character is what makes her so different from everybody else? It's what makes her Good Publicity!"

"Haven't you learned that nobody is different when it comes to money? Find out what she needs and give it to her."

Shay stood up, but instead of facing off his uncle, he merely walked out on him.

Darius took another glance at the envelope containing Shay's drug escapade. He frowned, wondering why some photographer would rather help Shay than cash this snapshot in. Its worth was well above the Ten Grand Scale. With a sigh he realized that this was yet another thing he had to invest time in. Nobody was selfless in his biz. So, what was the master plan behind this?

xxxxxx

'Why does he have to smell so damned good?' Jude fretted, inwardly, as she stretched her neck to its limit, trying to avoid touching his shoulder with her nose. He was looking something up in his PC and instead of just letting her make room for him, he leaned across the desk, right in front of her, letting his intoxicating smell fill her nostrils. She wondered whether he could smell her, too, and if he could, did he like her perfume?

'Bad Jude!' she chastised herself. 'He's married. Bad Jude! Bad!'

"Where's my file, Jude? The one that used to be on the desktop, called 'Very Important Numbers'?" Instead of leaning back, he turned his head, his face mere inches away from hers.

She stretched her neck even further, fighting for every inch of space between them. "The one that listed about a hundred phone numbers from girls of whom most have garnered a very disputable reputation in the public view?"

He nodded.

"Deleted."

With a heavy sigh he straightened up, giving Jude room to breathe. "I have worked my ass off to collect those numbers!"

"Oh I'm sure there was a lot of naked ass involved in collecting those numbers. I'd hardly call it work, though." Now, with her senses back under control, she scowled at him. "Why'd you need it? What woman could you possibly want to call, and why?"

"Because I just found out that Laura invited a friend of hers to my Party tonight and…I kind of…once… Look, Laura doesn't know and I'd like to keep it that way. I'm trying to find her number so I can call her and make sure of that! But you deleted that whole damn file," he grumbled, "which means I can't call her!"

"Doesn't Laura have her number?"

"Yes, Jude." Tommy rolled his eyes. "My next move would be to ask my wife for the number of a woman I had sex with."

With a blush, Jude smiled. "Oh."

"Exactly. Never mind, her name is Ashley Gibbs. Since you'll be working the door tonight, just make sure to inform her to keep my past with her a secret."

"About that…um…I was wondering if I could get off tonight…?"

"Obviously not." Irritation spread on his face. "You don't want to come to my party?"

"It's not like I'm a guest, Quincy. You just told me to work the door. Your wife doesn't want me there as a guest, your friends and I hardly have anything to talk about,

Darius considers me an intruder in this world and Shay will doubtlessly try to hit on me again."

"Didn't you tell him you guys were done?"

"Yes I did. For some reason he refuses to listen. And besides, there's this kind of really important thing that I have to do tonight…"

He glared at her. "Gossip Girl is not that important, Jude!"

"It is to me," She retorted. "But seriously, I would just end up standing at the bar, waiting for the night to end. Please, Quincy. I make sure to find that Ashley-chick's number and tell her to keep quiet about you. In return, I can stay away? Pretty please?"

"Fine." Not putting up a fight, he accepted her suggestion. Nonetheless he was a bit sad she refused to come. Albeit understanding her reasons, he was sure she could have fun if she just wanted to.

She smiled gratefully. "I'll make it up to you. I promise."

"Okay. Just…nothing. Okay."

He gave a last smile before leaving the office. Jude sunk deeper into the chair as she buried her face into her hands in shame. Truth was, she wanted to go. She had looked forward to going, to meeting a lot of business people and celebrities. But no, her mother had to ruin yet another thing for her.

Picking up her cell, Jude dialed Sadie's number. "Hey, I cancelled tonight. Are you sure this will work?"

"It has to," Sadie told with a lack of confidence as Jude found. "Either that, or we'll loose the house…"

xxxxxxx

In one hand, Tommy held a glass of Champagne while the other one rested loosely on Laura's hip. In her blue sequined short dress, she looked more than just beautiful, he found, and pressed a soft kiss on her temple. "Great Party, isn't it?"

Laura smiled back, for a moment even allowing herself to acknowledge his assistant's talent for organizing. "Jude did a good job. I have to admit that."

He grinned. "Somehow I doubt you'll tell her again in person."

Her eyes turned a darker shade. "I know she's a big help for you. And as long as she keeps her hands away from you, I will try and accept her role in your life."

"That's all I'm asking for." Placing away the Champagne, he smiled dashingly at his wife. "Dance with me?"

"I'd love to."

"Wouldn't we all love to dance with him?"

Both Laura and Tommy turned around, the latter being the most surprised by the woman standing there. "I personally ordered to un-invite you, Portia."

"Yeah, I got that mail. I personally chose to ignore it," she mocked him. "Lovely Party. Give my regards to your Party Planner. He did a good job." Holding out her hand, she glanced cheerfully at Laura. "You must be his upcoming ex-wife. I'm the first former Misses Quincy. I carry the title with pride."

Laura clutched Tommy's hand but remained silent. Tommy on the other side fought hard not to have her kicked out. "Is there a deeper reason you're here? Other than to intrude?"

"Actually, there is. Have you seen Jude? Shay informed me she's now working for you. Eager little girl. First she used Shay, now she's got her sight on you. I'm a tad bit afraid my brother is the next on her list."

"What list?" Tommy bit out, more than ever interested in the relationship between his assistant and his ex-wife. Jude had mentioned that she and Portia had crossed paths before. But what had happened?

Portia gave a little shrug. "Oh, you know, the list of people to sleep with to make it to the top…"

Although he had to admit he knew Jude a lot less than he had believed, anger built in him. Jude would never sleep with anyone just for a favor. "Watch your words," he seethed, not blind but ignorant to his wife's stunned reaction.

"Don't tell me you fell for it, too. The innocent act, the big gullible eyes and the feisty exterior… It's all just an act, you know? If you want to get to know the real Jude, just tell me. There a quite a few pictures I have, painting a different persona. The things she did…"

"What things?"

It was Tommy's turn to stare in shock at Laura, who became increasingly interested. He'd have dragged her away from his ex hadn't it been for Jude, who was calling his cell just that second. Hadn't it been for her ringtone, informing him it was her, he'd have ignored it. "Excuse me," he said before picking up.

A few steps away from his wife and his ex having a vivid talk, he listened to a rambling assistant. When the words 'help' and 'money' were mentioned, he began paying attention to Jude, instantly forgetting about Portia and his wife. "Hold on, Jude. Start over. What happened?"

"I screwed up, big time. I don't know whom else to call."

"Where are you?"

"Biker's Home. It's a bar down at the docks."

A cold shiver rushed up his spine. It was a place known for prostitution and illegal gambling. "How the hell did you get there?" He hadn't yet finished asking as he was already heading for his car.

"Long story. Please come…"


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter ten. The Long Story.

"I must say," Portia mused over the rim of her champagne glass, her lashes condescendingly lowered, "I'm genuinely surprised to find a _Misses Quincy_ so eager to defend a common whore."

"I think," Laura put icily, with a low voice, "that you should choose your next words very wisely." She stepped closer, threateningly so. "My personal opinion of women surrounding my husband is completely beyond your concern. And although I'm certainly not Jude, I for myself can only say I react with lawyers to these kinds of accusations. So I advise you: Think hard before you speak. After all, it's widespread knowledge you belong to those who do _a lot_ before pondering consequences."

Portia gave a faint smirk, stunned to encounter feistiness instead of surrender. How could one woman put so much energy in defending people predestined to betray? "Meaning…?"

Laura smiled politely. Fake. "I am a model, you're a designer – more or less successful. Do I have to remind you that we run in the same circles? I know people who know you. I know people who know you very, _very_ well. I know people who have seen you acting very much like the person you're trying to sell Jude as."

"Well, you certainly know a lot of people then."

"Does Darius know where your real qualities lie? He might offer you a job in his company if he did. PR people are required to spin certain truths and you have a knack for it. I had a very interesting talk with your nephew not so long ago and he told me with more than a little chagrin how a mean, vicious Tommy cheated you out of a big divorce-check. Shay doesn't know, does he? Everybody knows about Tommy's infidelity. Nobody told the world that you weren't much better. Chaz, was it? Or was it Bruno." She tapped her fingertip against her chin. "Wait, I think it were both! I'm very much aware of the fact that you still pine over my husband. It's known you're inclined to blurt out some secret truths when drunk and well…some other things, but hey, I don't blame you. I'm aware my husband is a very attractive man. And when the heart is broken, it tends to look for healing. Where better to look than with those who are just like the lost one. Tommy noticed I don't like Chaz. He has no idea why. He believes it's his bad influence on him. I don't like Chaz because he had an affair with you for three months during and after your divorce. And he never told Tommy. So, now that we've established that you know things about Jude that are obviously a lie and that I know things about you that can be proven by many, many people, I suggest you leave this party, hop on your dusty little broom and head back to witch-mountain! And the next time you drop by, uninvited, I will make it my personal mission to ruin your pretty little life. Got that?"

"Wow, he really did marry a bitch," Portia concluded. Her head, however, she still held high. "But fine. I know when to leave. Just so you know, though, I wasn't lying about Jude. Why don't you check your mail tomorrow? Whatever you will find, decide for yourself whether it's the truth or a nifty little witch-trick of mine," she sneered. Shoving the champagne flute into Laura's hand, Portia stormed off.

"Was that really necessary?"

Turning around, Laura was more than a little annoyed to find Shay there. "How much did you hear?"

"Only the part where you said that Portia only knows lies about Jude. Seriously, you're defending her? When you left the coffee shop the other day, I was fully prepared to find the divorce announcement in next day's paper."

"Jude isn't sleeping with my husband."

"But, obviously, she's in love with him!"

She scoffed deftly. "I am so sick of people like you coming to me, expecting me to act as a devious bitch. Believe it or not, I am _not_." She pulled him by his arm and dragged him into a small, secluded area away from everyone's ears. "I actually have respect for Jude. I talked to her and unlike pretty much everyone I've ever met, she had the guts to speak the truth. She's in love with my husband. Sue her, cause she certainly wanted that to happen!" Laura sneered sarcastically. "You want to know why I defended her? Because she _needed _someone to do it. And if you want to know why, I suggest you ask her! As for your aunt, she'll be fine. Rats always survive."

Laura hadn't made the connection earlier, but when Portia had commented on Jude being a whore, she had remembered a story she had heard a couple of years ago, about Portia playing dirty, about a girl named Jude, and about a night gone horribly wrong. She had never heard the details. She had never cared to find out. But if there was even a bit of truth in that story, then she felt genuinely sorry for Jude.

xxxxxx

Tommy's eyes were unreadable as he tossed another three hundred-dollar bills on the table. "Card," he said coldly, lacking even the slightest hint of an emotion. The card came quickly. Full House.

"I want to see," a longhaired Rocker in leather and metal demanded sternly, showing his own set of cards in the process. Confident he had won, his hands made a move for the money when Tommy gave a sharp, "hey!"

The Rocker looked up.

"I won," said Tommy and placed his cards down. "That makes ten grand for me. Two thousand I keep, that's my money, a thousand goes to the girls, and the rest should cover their debts plus interest."

Everyone held their breath, including Jude and Sadie who were holding hands while shaking, afraid this whole situation was going to explode into something very nasty any second.

But the Rocker smiled. "Fine."

Tommy was putting on his jacket while ushering his assistant and her sister outside. Behind him, he could hear the guy yelling they were always welcome as long as they brought cash. Instead of answering, Tommy just nodded and saw to it that they were out of there as quickly as possible.

Outside, Jude gave Sadie a quick hug. "Take the car. I'll see you at home."

"You're sure?"

Tommy leaned against his own car, watching Jude say goodnight to her sister. She nodded at Sadie and watched her drive off. Then her eyes met Tommy's and tears dwelled up. "Sorry I ruined your birthday. But I thought I was winning and I bet more and more and then I was losing and I bet even more to win it back and then I wanted out but he wouldn't let me cause I owed him and—"

Reaching for her, he pulled her into a tight hug. "Scary dude, huh?"

A mix between a sniffle and a chuckle vibrated against his shoulder. Jude fastened her grip on his body. It was strong and reassuring. She felt so safe compared to the scare she'd experienced moments ago. "I thought he'd kill me."

"Pretty girls don't get killed, Jude." Only half-joking, he was feeling an amount of relief he had never experienced before. This whole thing could have easily turned into a catastrophe. When he had arrived, finding the two girls cowering at the bar with two muscled men flanking them, his heart had skipped a beat or two in fear. It wasn't his first time here. Years ago, much more stupid and reckless, he'd come here often, to gamble and forget. Nowadays he stayed as far away as possible. "What the hell made you come here?"

Still shaking in his arms, Jude wiped her nose in his jacket. Normally he'd throw a fit for that kind of behavior – the jacket was a hand-stitched Italian one of a kind – but tonight, after what had just happened, he let it slide. She leaned back, meeting his eyes guiltily. "I needed money."

"You don't say!"

"I was winning at first."

"Until they started playing."

"Sadie is good at this game. She always wins when we play it. But then she got nervous and wanted to quit, but…like I said, I needed money." Wiping away more tears, she wrapped her arms around herself. "Thank you so much for coming. For leaving your birthday. I'm so sorry I ruined your night."

"So much for watching Gossip Girl, huh?" He cracked a smile. "Come on, let's get some coffee."

"You can just drop me off near home. You shouldn't have to miss any more of your party."

He motioned for the car. "I just bailed you out of an illegal Poker game, Jude. Trust me, cake is the last thing on my mind right now."

xxxxxxx

Inside a small 24hour diner just outside city limits, far away from any possible paparazzo, Jude gulped down a big mug of coffee. She deliberately kept her eyes on the window, watching the occasional car drive by, half afraid and half ashamed what he'd see if their eyes met. Would he see her guilt for bringing him into this situation? Or would he see her gratefulness for still being here with her? "Mom moved to Italy last week, leaving nothing but a note saying she'll sell the house as soon as she had a buyer. Dad wants to buy it, but the bank won't give him a credit, cause he's still paying for the one he took out to buy the house in the first place. That's crazy! I mean it's his house. He shouldn't have to buy it twice!" She paused for another sip. "Sadie and I don't need the house, but Dad doesn't believe us. So he's working two jobs now to find a way. I tried getting a credit, cause I'm earning money now, but they say it'd be too risky to give me money. I don't have any kind of skills and once you fire me, I'm not going to find a job as well paid as this one. At least not for a long while. I'm too risky an investment. Don't I've heard that one before," she muttered, catching Tommy's interest, but she didn't explain that special remark. Instead she continued with her story. "For ten thousand dollars the dealer will take the house off the market for six months. That'd buy us some time. Sadie and I thought we could win that much with Poker."

"Why didn't you come to me?"

She kept her eyes adverted. "You're my friend, Tommy. Not my bank."

"As your friend I would have helped you." It angered him she'd rather risk getting hurt in some sleazy bar than simply ask him. She didn't even mention her problems to him. "You could have told me what was going on in your life!"

"I already ruined your friendship with Kwest. Your wife thinks I'm a threat for your relationship. Let's not even start about the stories the tabloids write about you and me! The last thing I want to do is cause you any more drama." Tears wetted her eyes again. "I've ruined your birthday," she declared, sad and ashamed. "I'm really not that helpful, am I?"

Reaching across the table, squeezing her hand, he shook his head. "Jude, you're more than helpful. Don't doubt that. And about that ruined birthday party…I'm not that eager to head back. Have you even eaten today?"

"I was too nervous."

Waving for the waitress, he let go of her hand. "How about a burger?"

"Or two," she mumbled, a timid, little grin on her lips.

xxxxxx

"Where are we?" Jude, a bottle of red wine clutched in her right hand, held on to a rusty banister with her left one. "This looks like a ruin!" Having passed the state of mere tipsiness, she was drinking the wine in big gulps as she stumbled after Tommy who, just as drunk, led her up a long staircase.

"I bought this place years ago. It used to big apartment complex ages ago. There's even a small club somewhere downstairs that closed decades ago. It's my hideout. You say you don't play music anymore. I don't play anymore either." He opened a heavy metal door, revealing a shabby, yet roomy space filled with all sorts of music instruments. "Only I do still play."

Jude's eyes lit up. "That's a Steinway Piano. I've always dreamed of playing one someday!"

His face filled with a bright smile. "Go ahead." He himself went for a Vintage acoustic guitar. "If anyone knew what's hiding in here, I'd have to install a state-of-the-art alarm system. But nobody ever comes here." Eyes searching her, he took a swig out of his own bottle of wine. "Nobody but you knows of this."

She turned around, astonished. "Why me?"

He shrugged. "I trust you." Sitting down on a couch that had its best days back in the sixties, he leaned back, adjusted the guitar and strummed it once before placing it away again. The view of her admiring the pitch-black piano was too enthralling. Her pale face, slightly smeared with mascara, was glowing in the dim room. Almost as if a fine layer of gold dust was covering it, he would have sworn he saw it sparkling. The effects of the liquor they'd been consuming not withstanding, he leaned forward, on a hush admitting, "You're insanely beautiful."

A heavy blush flew to her cheeks. "You're drunk." Fingertips were dancing across the keyboard, drawing little gasps from her for they were so soft and delivered such amazing sounds when played. "We both are." In the far back of her mind she recalled that liquor and Quincy didn't bode well with her capability to decide wisely. "Maybe we should go. Towards separate places," she highlighted on an afterthought.

"We walked almost an hour to get here." His eyes never let go of her face.

Jude smirked. "Cause you refused to drive."

"I'm past drunk. Alcohol and cars are bad." He had already gotten lucky getting from his party to the bar, and then from there to the diner. He'd only had a glass or two of Champagne. But now he was barely able to stand straight. "I'm not that stupid."

Jude gave him a cynical glance. "Seeing us both here, your wife would argue that."

Standing up and walking over to her, he didn't care for anyone but her in that second. "She isn't here. She doesn't see." Sitting down next to her, he played a few notes, making Jude smile. So he played some more. "Sing for me."

Then she started playing notes. Completely unlike her, she just sang.

_**Crush a bit, little bit, **_

_**roll it up, take a hit  
>Feelin' lit feelin' light, <strong>_

_**2 am summer night.  
>I don't care, hands on the wheel, drivin drunk, I'm doin' my thing<br>Rollin the Midwest side and out livin' my life getting' out dreams  
>People told me slow my roll <strong>_

_**I'm screaming out fuck that  
>Imma do just what I want <strong>_

_**lookin' ahead no turnin' back  
>if I fall if I die know I lived it till the fullest<br>if I fall if I die know I lived and missed some bullets**_

As if in trance, Tommy stopped watching her play, leaned to his side and kissed her. A thirsting man finding a drop of water, that's what it felt like to him. Her lips were soft, full, perfect. Like her kisses. It was invigorating. He could practically feel his blood rushing through every vein. She responded to him full-heartedly. Hands began to explore, to grope, to feast, to fill that void for human contact that both felt just then. Why was it their respective loved ones couldn't give them the satisfaction they needed – physically or emotionally? Tommy briefly thought about that, but the second Jude's tongue slipped past his lips everything was forgotten. Hurling her closer into his arms, he lifted her off the small piano bench and placed her onto the keyboard, producing some odd tunes in the process. They hardly noticed. Her shirt came off first, then followed his. Everything happened in a matter of breathlessly passing seconds. As he fed on her kisses, the faint taste of sweet wine spurring him on, fueling his hunger, his hands excitedly mapped her body, exploring every dip, every curve, unable to find anything short of flawless. Aroused, hard, yearning for the act and its joys, he pushed himself against her core, rubbing, grinding, telling her of his needs.

She stopped to look at him, eyes shimmering in want and at the same time in captivating shyness. "I'm…I've never…"

His world shifted. Overly aware of what he craved for and what he should do, which was lightyears apart from what he wanted to do, he let go of her. "I'm sorry." He dimly recalled Portia's comment from earlier, but Jude's actions pushed it from his mind again.

Tentatively touching the planes of his male chest, eyes lowered, taking in all of him as if memorizing a song, a melody, her gaze eventually landed on the visible swelling of his penis. Then, from deep below a heavy veil of lashes, she breathed almost inaudibly, "I want to." And she did. It wasn't her speaking. Only, it was. A very raw part of her, adventurous, driven by emotions and desires, resurged, finding a voice so pure and consummate that she felt Tommy shivering against her touch.

It was all he needed to hear. He didn't dare ask if she was certain, afraid the answer was a 'no'. She'd stop him if he went to far, he knew somehow, albeit praying she wouldn't. Much more gently, slower, more explorative, his mouth devoured her neck, nipping, tasting, enticing, and finding reward in her sensual grasps for air.

'I'm going to hell,' Jude figured, angling against him to meet his thrusts, oddly annoyed there was that much fabric between them. But she had made her peace with it, had accepted her destiny, for it came with something so wildly enlivening she couldn't have said 'no' to it if her life depended on it. For years she hadn't felt this alive, this human. Music had for as long as she could remember been the one thing that could make her heart beat faster, but here she was finding there was something that could make it skip some beats altogether and if that meant losing everything, she'd gladly hand it over. Her teeth sunk into his shoulder, the skin a feverish barrier. She let out a loud moan, excruciatingly eager for more. Here she was, alone in that room with Tommy, with a chance. And she took it. More, she lunged at it. "Please," she begged, wondering if she had ever begged before in her entire life. Likely not.

Kicking the bench away in a thriving need to be closer, deeper, Tommy lowered himself to his knees, tugging Jude's jeans down her legs, discarding it along with shoes and socks. She didn't hide from him. It was visible she was anxious, nervous maybe, but incredibly aware. It got to him. That look on her face, so full of trust, he wouldn't be able to forget, ever. Kissing his way up her inner thighs, bringing forth more of those thoroughly erotic sounds of lovemaking, he found his destination soon. A skilled flick of his tongue and Jude was rasping his name. He couldn't wait introducing her to every other aspect of a physical relationship. Then, as he was bringing Jude to her first orgasm, it hit him like a blow out of nowhere.

Relationship?

It was too late to stop now, it had evolved way too far and it hadn't nearly brought the satisfaction they both needed to end it. But what would come once the sweat on their skin had dried?

Those worries had to remain unattended for a little while longer, because in that moment Jude, overrun by desire, had begun playing with her nipple and seeing that made him want to do nothing than follow her lead.

"It's gonna hurt," he warned her, his sweet lips suckling on her breast, his index finger exploring a side of her body she herself had never gotten to know before, and all Jude could do was nod.

What could a little pain be, compared to what she hoped would follow it. Love? No, she wasn't fooling herself into that. But she craved to feel alive again. She craved to feel something other than regrets for all those roads not taken. Relaxing her body as Tommy placed himself at her entrance, she was prepared for whatever came next.

Pain did follow. But as hoped, as anticipated, the stinging ache didn't last that long. Swimming on a high of liquor and arousal, all she could focus on were his thickness bringing her closer and closer to that one unknown place she could feel herself approaching so quickly. Every kiss he placed on her, every lick, every touch of his hands, it all tingled. Almost as though a constant flow of electricity was running through her.

"More," she wanted, pleading, "please, Tommy, oh please!"

He didn't hesitate to deliver, pushing faster and harder with each thrust. One hand on her breast, one on her behind, he mashed their bodies together, nearly melting them into one when the final strokes brought them both to a splintering release.

Alive.

It felt so good.

xxxxxx

"For the first time in what feels like ages, I've done something that was entirely selfish," Jude whispered into the darkness, feeling Tommy gently kissing her neck. Resting on the old couch, naked, caressed by a touch of moonlight, she had a faint smile on her lips. "I mean the job I needed, and the money I'm saving, but the sex with you…" She titled her head slightly, catching his eyes. "The sex I just wanted."

His tongue licked along a small bite mark he had left on her shoulder during their second time, unintentionally of course. "So you used me." He chuckled. "That's a new one."

She grinned back at him. Still buzzing on sex and alcohol, Jude felt a strange sense of indifference towards right and wrong. "Earlier tonight, in that bar, before you walked in, I was so scared. I don't remember ever being that scared. But at the same time, it was the first time in a long while that I felt that much at all."

Peculiarly taken aback by her admission, he wondered, "You and Shay broke up more than two years ago. Have you never fallen in love with anyone since then?"

'Aside you?' She wanted to ask, but held her tongue. "No. After I gave up music, nothing felt…worth my interest. Nothing could get me to care. Maybe I just didn't want to care. I didn't want to—" Suddenly she stopped, becoming aware of how honest she was to him. But the way he looked at her, full of understanding and compassion, had her finishing albeit on a whisper. "I wasn't sure I could handle losing something again. And nothing came along that made me want to test it out."

"Portia showed up at the party tonight."

Reality came back with a vengeance. It always showed up when she was the least prepared. Jude tensed, abruptly reaching for his dress shirt as she sat up. "Did she?"

He nodded, startled. "She asked about you." Feeling that their moment had ended – too fast – he sat up as well. "She made a remark about you, sleeping your way up?"

She wasn't surprised. "And you ask because you want to know my demands, now that I've made you cheat on your wife?"

"No," he declared fiercely, angrily. "I want to know why she's telling lies about you. I was your first, Jude."

"So?"

"Jude!"

"She hates me, Tommy." Silently pleading he'd just accept that as an explanation.

But of course he didn't. "She mentioned pictures."

Taking a moment to control her emotions, Jude got off the couch and walked towards the big window, not caring that she was practically naked. The shirt unbuttoned, merely framing her, barely covered anything. She doubted anyone was watching her, not that they would see anything through the darkness.

"Talk to me," he practically begged. "Tell me what happened."

'Never,' she swore inwardly. He'd never look at her the same way again. And after having lost so much already, she couldn't bear the thought of that. It wasn't love in his eyes, nor admiration or desire. It was his look of genuine care. He had told her he liked her morals and the way she never betrayed herself – well, until tonight, that was. If he ever found out about what had really happened, he'd only look at her with disgust.

"You can't just tell me nothing."

Of all the people she'd met in her life, of all those who never cared for her, why did he have to be the one different? With a distant expression on her face she eventually admitted to bits and pieces, distinctively aware he'd not back down otherwise. But she made sure to keep the details. "I had more or less given up on music and the thing with Shay had been over for a few weeks when one day she called me, telling me there was a party in town and that a lot of business people would be there." Pausing to remember, painful though it was, Jude sighed. "I might have been naïve when I went there. I grew up that night. I learned a valuable lesson." Turning around, meeting Tommy's eyes squarely, she gave a bitter expression. "It's always about the things you're willing to do and the price you're willing to pay."

"What happened?" he asked, wanting to know more than ever.

"I learned a lesson, like I said." Averting her eyes, Jude moved back around, reaching out to touch the cold window with her fingertips, feeling for the first time the icy air that had filled the room since night had fallen over them. The winter was still ruling the area, delivering cold, cloudy weather. She took a deep breath. When he covered her hand with his she pulled away. "I can't sign for you, Tommy. There's a reason I don't sing anymore. And if you want to know why, I suggest you ask your ex-wife. She'll have the time of her life telling you all the rotten details."

"I really don't understand why you won't tell me. What happened with you and Portia?" Despite her attempt of keeping him at arm's length, Tommy stepped closer, almost near enough for their naked bodies to touch.

The hand that had felt the cold glass now reached out for his body, barely caressing him as he sucked in a breath, partially because of her cold hand, partially for the jolt of arousal she sparked in him.

"Because I can't. I literally can't do that. Everyone has a moment in their lives that they wish had never occurred. This one is mine. I'm sure you never told me about your moment, either."

"No," he admitted honestly, not just proving he kept secrets, but affirming that he as well as she had done something so bad that speaking it out would change everything between them. "At least tell me why she's lying. I _know _you never slept with anyone before tonight. If she doesn't believe you—"

"You stand up and say that you have first-hand proof I was a virgin until tonight? Because you were the one deflowering me and nobody else?" Sadness spread on her face. "You're married."

"I know."

Even though she hadn't expected him to object, his words, the simple, impersonal two-syllable reply, stung more than she had presumed. He was married. He knew. Tonight wouldn't change that. "We should get dre—"

"If tonight is all I will ever have with you, then I'm not ready for it to end," he interrupted her, startling her with a kiss so intense it made her legs buckle. His shirt slithered to the ground as he pulled her into his arms, pressing her naked figure against the cold window. "I need more memories," he whispered into her ear as he entered her wet heat.

xxxxxxx

The temperature, it felt, had dropped even further. Waking up due to shivering and a subsequent, unwelcome case of Goosebumps, Jude blinked, adjusting to the bright February morning lights coming from outside. As she stretched, the emptiness on the couch became obvious to her. Tugging the blanket over her naked skin, she forced herself not to feel anything. Nothing. Especially not sadness or disappointment! He had left. She hadn't expected him to still be there, had she? That would have been incredibly naïve and hadn't she outgrown that notion a long time ago?

Sitting up, brushing strands of tousled hair out of her face, she breathed in and out, steadily reminding herself that last night had been nothing but a…_thing_. A one-night stand. Or rather a one-night _mistake_. They certainly wouldn't repeat it. _She_ wouldn't let them repeat it. He was married, she was, well, not married and not even in a relationship, but still – she had morals. Most of the time, anyway.

Grabbing her shirt, which rested on the floor next to the couch, she spotted a piece of paper resting on it, along with a note.

"_**I have money. You need money. Friends help each other. Sorry for leaving early. Reality came knocking. **_

_**-T."**_

Shaky fingers untagged the note from the piece of paper beneath, already knowing what it would be. Her stomach churned and twisted, sudden and in a painful way. As the number he had written down became visible, she stormed for the bathroom and threw up.

_**About two years ago…**_

"_You can drink, you know?" Portia smiled as she handed Jude a pink cocktail with a fruit in a glass with a sugared rim. "Nobody will tell. I promise."_

_Taking the glass, Jude nodded nervously before sipping. "So this is an industry party, huh?" Her eyes wandered across the club. The lightning was dim, velvet red and a shimmering black were the dominating colors in what appeared to be a baroque-styled interior. Everywhere she looked, women in short, sparkling, probably very expensive dresses, displaying more skin than she showed at a beach in summer, walked around, obviously content with being arm-candy. For some reason she felt out of place, almost like an intruder. Even more when she saw two people displaying an amount of public affection that even her anything-but-prude sister would find inappropriate. "This is nothing I've ever been to with Shay."_

_Portia nodded as typed a text on her phone. "Figured. This is invitation-only." She hit the send-button and smiled again. "Don't worry." Taking the barely empty glass from Jude's hands, she placed it on the bar behind them and ordered another one, ignoring Jude's protests. "I wanted to talk to you about something. About last month. When you came to the house and saw…"_

"_Shay kissing Eden?"_

_Giving a pitying nod, she added, "that, and…other things you stumbled upon…"_

_Jude blushed. "I really don't know what I saw. I swear to God, Portia. I didn't mean to just walk in. I was looking for Shay and…I had never been to your brother's place. Some guy sent me to a hallway and mentioned a door on the right. If I had known you where—" She blushed even harder. _

"_You can speak it out, Jude. It's called a blow-job."_

"_I won't tell anyone. And I'm also not going to ment—" She stopped herself, biting her lip and looking away. _

_Though the expression on Portia's face was unreadable, it didn't resemble a form of surprise. "Would you believe me if I say it was only flour? Or sugar?"_

_Completely mute, Jude grimaced. If she would've just kept quiet, she scolded herself. But when she was nervous, her words came faster than her thoughts._

"_Like I said, don't worry. The last year was long and…never mind, let's just agree that you keep my secrets and I keep yours."_

_Jude smiled shyly. "I really don't have any secrets."_

_Portia nodded at the drink in Jude's hand. "That's your first one, then. But be aware, the night is still young..." _

xxxxxxx

"Your wife called last night." Kwest entered studio A and closed the door behind him. "Apparently you left the party early, leaving as little information as possible. As usual," he added snidely. "So…where'd you end up?"

Barely lifting his eyes, Tommy clenched his jaw. So much judgment was hidden in Kwest's words. He might as well have asked in whose arms he had spent the night. That made him even angrier. After all, he [i]_had[/i]_ spent the night in someone else's arms. In someone else's long, smooth, silky arms that had curled so perfectly around his shoulders, especially when he had…

Tommy gulped as he let his head roll backwards, eyes closed off. "I had to help someone out."

"A female someone? I saw the guest list. All your friends where at the party. All but one. Where's Jude today?"

His patience snapped. "Do you get off accusing me of infidelity?"

Kwest scoffed. "Not as much as you apparently get off on being unfaithful. I know you, Tom. I know the look in your eyes. The guilt. I see the way you look at Jude. We are friends for ten years. Look me in the eyes and tell me you did not sleep with Jude last night."

"Sherlock Holmes at his best, aye? Some looks between me and Jude and her not being here is all you need to accuse me of cheating?"

"I really am jealous of you, do you know that? In all my life I never managed to be self-righteous husband and a lying cheater at the same time. Jude's sister called in earlier, worrying, because apparently, Jude never came home and last time she saw her, Jude was about to enter your car!"

"If you already know all the answers, what's with the twenty-one questions?"

"Call me stupid, but I actually thought you might want to ease your conscience by coming clean on your own. You're married, Tom. You might not like the rules of a marriage, but you accepted them anyway. Did it just for a second occur to you that this would be the second wife you're leaving heartbroken? Let alone what Jude will feel? She's eighteen and from what I've heard, she's hardly experienced – now you're making her a one-night stand?" He shook his head in disgust. "You just don't care, do you?"

Standing up, walking to the door and out, Tommy haltered one last moment, gripping the frame angrily. His blood was pumping through his veins and anger was consuming him, so he decided it was time to leave before he lost himself. He hated nothing more than being confronted by truths he was neither ready nor willing to hear. Yet, a small part remained that wasn't aggravated at the moment. A small part of him was simply lost and maybe even scared of what would happen next. That part made him look over his shoulder, noting, "Jude is not a one-night stand. She's more. She's just…"

"Not your wife," Kwest finished for Tommy, who went away with no further comment.

xxxxxxx

(Song: Lissie, Pursuit of Happiness)


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Eleven. The Next Day.

Sometime after leaving Tommy's secret hideout and arriving at G-Major to quit her job, to run and hide from reality as long as possible, she'd come to the conclusion that her life couldn't get any worse than it was. But, what a huge mistake! What a giant, really, awfully bad mistake! What a crappy assumption that had been! Sitting in Darius' office, listening to him rambling about sheep in a flock, responsibilities and a sparkly red dress that looked good on pictures, it had indeed gotten worse. Especially when he had suggested she'd go on a date with Shay that night.

"You want me to do what?" With her mind exhausted from alternating between damning herself and damning Tommy for what had happened last night, and from trying to find the right words to say for when she'd quit, Jude longed for a moment of quietness. Just a few seconds. To collect her thoughts. To give her mind a short, tiny, much needed rest. Not that one seemed near. She dipped her head forward, covered her face with both her hands and groaned soundly. "Please, _please, _tell me you're kidding!"

Darius' face transformed into something that vaguely resembled confusion. "Kidding? I'm afraid I don't do that." He flashed a winning smile. "About this date-idea of mine: You wouldn't have to feel anything for Shay. Personally I'd prefer if emotions could stay out of it altogether. On both sides. Consider it a business deal. Shay needs good publicity. You can provide that. And I asked around. You don't have a boyfriend. Convenient!" He looked satisfied with the idea he'd come up with. "You can't disagree that Shay and you make a very interesting couple."

"I certainly can't," Jude agreed, pointedly adding, "that's why it didn't work out the last time! Aside the fact that I've no intention of going through with this, it would never work out anyway. Shay has never been one to settle for one girl only. I learned that the hard way. Also, if it's just for show, can't you just rent him a girlfriend?"

"I thought I was doing just that."

Jude blinked. "You would actually pay me?" She wanted to laugh. That made him the second Mills family member that considered her buyable. "Do I have a 'For Sale' sign tattooed on my face? Cause for the live of everything that's holy to me I can't figure out why you would think I would agree to this!"

"Opportunism?"

Jude shook her head as she fished Tommy's crumpled check out of her jean-pocket. "Despite what everyone seems to believe, I'm not a whore. You can neither buy me to date your nephew, nor to shut me up or make me do anything I don't want to do." She tossed the check onto the table. "Better tell Tommy as well. And while you're at it, tell him I quit. I would tell him myself," she spat angrily, "but right now I'm not in the mood or the condition to do it myself." If she faced him right now, with so much resentment roaring through her veins she'd only end up saying something she would later regret. "Goodbye!"

xxxxxx

"Laura." Tommy had not yet fully emerged the safe seclusion of his office when he found his wife about to knock on his door. Why knocking, he wondered, only then remembering he'd locked the entrance. "What are you doing here?"

"Gee, what a welcome!You left your party last night, not a word about where you were going, and now, that I've _finally_ tracked you down, your first words are 'What are you doing here?' I don't know, _husband_. Maybe I was worried about you!" Not waiting for a further word she wrapped her arms around him, giving him a tight squeeze. He was rather startled. "I had a bit of a run-in with your ex-wife last night. She's up to no good!"

"How so," he asked absentmindedly, barely returning the embrace. His thoughts were still on the other side of town, with Jude. Would she still be there? Could he make it there anytime soon? He had a feeling his note from this morning hadn't been such a smart idea. Maybe he should try again, explain himself personally. It's not like it had been _just_ sex for him, but what else had it been instead? The start on an affair? He doubted Jude would agree to such ideas. And if not an affair, but just a one-time thing, then it wasn't after all more than a one-night stand. What did that make Jude? A mistake? Inwardly cringing, he knew that Jude would never be a mistake. But what, for the love of God, had last night been, then?

"Are you even listening?" Laura leaned back the slightest bit to meet his eyes. "I told you your ex-wife is coming for your assistant. I'm not really sure why, but I think the two of them have some kind of past."

With as much interest as he could summon he nodded. "Yeah, I think Jude mentioned something like that." Last night she _had_ mentioned something like that. When she'd been naked, framed by a flimsy shirt and a hint of moonlight. And she'd been as vague as she'd never been before.

"Talking about her…" Laura noted. Tommy looked up, finding Jude standing in the lobby, staring at them. Oh God, leaving that damned piece of paper with nothing but some lame excuse had definitely been a mistake. And now, from the look on her face, it was undeniably too late to take it back.

He let go of his wife. "Excuse me for a minute." Practically sprinting towards her, he suddenly found himself blocked by Darius, who dug his nails into his producer's upper arm, deftly pulled him into his office. "Talk," he seethed. "Now!"

Before Tommy could protest, Jude was gone.

xxxxx

Jude's back was pressed against the cold stonewall right next to G-Major's main entrance. Her hands were pressed on her upper thighs, her breathing was ragged and her eyes dampened by hot burning tears threatening to spill any second. It had been too much just now, finding him in the arms of his wife, in the arms of the very person whose arms he ought to be in. Until now, she hadn't that much thought of Laura, of her feelings, of her pain, should – or rather _once_ – she'd find out about last night's events. In this moment, however, the gravity of her actions began to sink in. She had slept with a married man. Not even all the liquor in the world could excuse that. She'd become the very person she never wanted to be and worst of all, she'd enjoyed it thoroughly.

Where would she go from here?

There was no way she could go back to work, pretend as if nothing happened. There was not the slightest bit of a chance she'd be able to face—

"Laura!"

Tommy's wife pulled a paper tissue out of her purse and handed it to Jude. She took it hesitantly. "I can only imagine what it must be like, being in your situation."

Not daring to say a word, afraid she'd give away something that better be kept a secret, Jude gave the barest nod. Wiping away the tears, she straightened up, pulled her hair behind her shoulders, all the while keeping an eye on the woman in front of her. "My situation?"

Laura smiled sympathetically. "I know we've never had the best of relationships, you being in love with my husband and all, but…"

Jude gulped.

"During the party…well, I ran into Portia. She made some remarks about you and," seeing how Jude rolled her eyes, Laura continued with just a hint of attitude, "look, Portia is a bitch and everybody knows it. Anyway, I thought—"

"Thanks, but I'll handle!"

"I'm just trying to be nice. You're standing on the middle of a busy street, crying!"

'Because of your husband and my actions,' she wanted to snap, but bit her tongue. Pity, or sympathy, or whatever other kindly meant emotion was coming from Laura just then, Jude couldn't handle it. She knew she didn't deserve it as much as Laura didn't deserve what had happened last night. "I'm not crying over Portia, nor am I crying over whatever the hell she might have told you! I had a bad day and…thanks for the tissue," she waved Laura off before heading for the next bus station.

"Wait!" Laura called after her, but Jude didn't. She didn't even look back.

xxxxxx

It was the end of a long day. Jude stretched her legs as she sat on her porch, gazing into the night sky. All those lonely little stars were having such a pleasant, enviable life, she thought. Alone in space, with nobody to fall in love with or be hurt by, they had the best position in the entire universe and a great view on the moon as well!

"Hey…"

She lowered her eyes, finding Tommy standing in front of her. He seemed angry, she'd say. But she didn't care. She was angry, too.

"I can't believe you gave Darius the check. If you didn't want my money, you could have just said so." His deep blue eyes were shimmering in the light coming from the inside of the house. She had a hard time not falling into them. His words helped a little with that.

"I did," she informed him coldly. "I was very clear on that part. But as usual, you simply didn't listen, did you? _You_ decided you wanted something and so you ignored everything else and just did it."

"Are you talking about the money or the sex?" His voice was dry and impersonal.

She snorted. "Take your pick!"

"'_I want to_,'" he replied to her comment, his voice a sharply edged sword. "Your words from last night. Keep the accusations, Jude. You want to blame someone, look into the mirror. You think I planned last night? I was spending a great night with my friend and somewhere along the way I forgot about my life and just lived in the moment. Blame me for finding you irresistible, I don't care. Blame me for wanting you so badly it hurt. But don't you dare blame me for making your own choice!" He dropped the ripped shreds of the check in front of her feet. "Darius ripped it, in case you're wondering. I didn't tell him about last night and I'm not going to. I was just trying to help. I won't do it again."

"Fine," she retorted. "I didn't ask you to! Geez, Tommy, I woke up to find ten thousand dollars next to my freaking underwear! What do you think that made me feel like?" Meeting his eyes squarely, she sighed heavily, realizing he had no idea. Maybe he had thought nothing of it. Not that it changed anything. "What do you want from me, Tommy? You're still married. We made a huge mistake. Did you really think we'd just continue like nothing happened?"

A _mistake_. The word was definitely the most fitting choice for their actions but then again, he hardly saw it as that. It was more of a…_thing_ that happened at the wrong time, under wrong conditions. But he didn't say that. Instead he agreed. "Yeah." And it wasn't a lie. For some strange reason he had actually believed that their friendship, complicated as it was, could withstand everything. Even sex.

There was a fleeting emotion on her face that he couldn't decipher.

"I'm not coming back."

"Jude—"

"No." She stood up and went inside, briefly pausing in the doorway. "I can't come back and pretend nothing happened. I can't just go _back_. I'm sorry. The second I see you, all I feel is guilt." And some unwelcome memories of last night. She didn't tell him that. "It's better to end it before we can't end it anymore."

He looked at her, frown-lines forming quickly. "What that's supposed to mean?"

"Last night didn't come from nowhere and you know it as well as I do."

xxxxx

"A contract?" Jude was horrified as she stared at the paper in front of her. Indeed, it carried her signature. She'd just not thought a contract would be, well, so binding! "You're really nailing me to a piece of paper? Weren't you the one dying to get rid of me?"

Darius smirked victoriously. "That was before you came in handy."

"So, to quit, I will have to fake-date your nephew?"

"No, no, no," he shook his head. "You're staying. I need you to stay in order to control this play of mine. If I let you and Shay just 'date' as you like, it'd end up being just another catastrophe. This way, you'll be here most of the time, while Shay – and I made sure of that – will finish recording his last songs with Tommy. I'll have you around and can pull those proverbial strings I like so much. By the way, you can thank Tom for this." He added this little piece of information deliberately. "You can blame him for all of this. He reminded me of the contract."

"Oh, rest assured," Jude snarled, "I will blame him! Just like I will keep saying 'no' to Shay! I'm not a hooker. You can neither buy nor pressure me, Darius."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. Tommy told me about your living situation. Better pucker those lips for my nephew or I will buy that house of yours and kick you out." He looked immensely pleased with himself. "I'm in this game a lot longer than you are and you can't win."

Jude stood up, placed a fingertip on the contract and moved it back across the table, towards Darius. He thought he could play? Let him, she decided. If she couldn't fight him, she'd make him pay hard and squirm even harder. "Fine. You want me to date Shay? I will. In return I want the house. The entire house, and not a single cent of debt. And if you refuse, I will give you break-up of a lifetime. I will make it my personal mission to ruin Shay's career. And while we're all honest with each other, don't think for a second you're invincible."

"Meaning?" He snorted, not believing her threatening tone.

"That you should ask Portia before you say 'no' to me. Ask her about G-Major's hiring-policies concerning under-aged girls. She'll have quite a tale to tell! It includes all that makes a good industry scandal: Drugs, sex, blackmail and, of course, the good old pictures to prove it all. See you tomorrow. I'm taking the rest of the day off." On her way out she stopped in the doorway, glancing at him over her shoulder. "Tell my new boyfriend to pick me up tonight. I feel like going to the Opera. I expect flowers, a limo and a nice gift that goes far beyond the cliché-chocolate. Diamonds, to be precise. Better get to it. I've heard the nice ones are quite rare."

"Opera?"

"Shay hates it. It'll be perfect."

xxxxx

Jude adjusted the small black strap of her dress, tugging it into its right position. With more frustration over her current situation than an actual interest in her hair she'd straightened it earlier and now, soft and shiny as it might be, it fell annoyingly often into her face and already she regretted having gone through the trouble in the first place. Looking down at herself, she felt like an idiot. The dress, Sadie's black, knee-length prom dress, barely fit. Her older sister had always been the one with the more female figure. She herself had always been the skinny outcast.

Wasn't it somewhat an odd turn of events that she was now the object of interest of not just one most-wanted Bachelor but two? Well, one _former_ most-wanted Bachelor, that was.

"You look pretty."

Turning around to face her sister, Jude shrugged her shoulders. "Thanks. How come this whole thing feels like going to a funeral? I still don't get why it has to be me. There are like a million dumb girls out there, convinced Shay is _the _ideal boyfriend. I'm sure some of those chicks even fit into Darius' category of Good Girlfriend Material. They would also do it for free! Hell, _they _would pay dating Shay. Why me?" She heavily blew a strand of hair from her face.

Sadie could only speculate. "Maybe he thinks he can control you." A grin tugged on her lips. "Clearly he hasn't learned from the past."

Tossing a dirty smile at her sister, Jude crossed her arms and leaned against the vanity table with one hip. "Well he sure won't forget this time. If he thinks I'm letting Shay-Shay walk all over me, just because the feelings aren't real, he's in for a surprise. If I have to do this, we'll do this my way. At least the house-issue is taken care of. Hooker after all," Jude murmured as she grabbed her purse.

"Meaning?" Sadie crooked a brow. This kind of talk she wasn't used from her. "By the way, I'm really surprised he'd pay a whole house just to get you to date his nephew."

She was sure Darius wouldn't have done that. But by now he'd surely have talked to Portia, who again would have advised him to simply agree. After all, she was the one making the picture and knew better than anyone what releasing it would do to everyone, foremost his brother's reputation. Wrapping a shawl around her shoulders, Jude headed for the door. "Desperation can make you do crazy things. Don't wait up."

"Why," the older Harrison teased, "you plan on having some fun tonight after all?"

"Oh I will have fun tonight. I'm just not sure if Shay will say the same…"

xxxxxx

"I don't want this anymore than you do," Shay hissed as he tried adjusting in this damned seat. He hated tuxes, he hated classical music, and if he hated one thing even more it was enduring classical music _while_ wearing a tux. Jude's outfit wasn't nearly sexy enough to count as distraction and above all he felt completely out of place sitting between hundreds of stiff looking elderly people with opera glasses and disapproving frowns. "At least you get a reward out of this. What do I get?"

"My company," Jude suggested readily.

"Great!" He sneered.

She merely rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the necklace, by the way. I really appreciate how you took the time finding the smallest diamond available. It must have hardly cost you a fortune."

"Always, Jude." What she delivered on snide remarks he gladly threw back in return. "I figured you'd like it. But I can assure you I hardly spent five minutes searching. The second I saw the 'On Sale' tag, I was sure it was the right one."

"So thoughtful."

"That's me! Perfect gentleman."

"And so humble."

"D told me you wanted to quit. How come? I thought you thrilled working at G-Major."

"Long story."

"Does it involve your feelings for a certain boss of yours?"

Her hand gripped his and her nails dug into his skin as far as they could. "To make one thing very clear from the beginning, _Honey_, I hate you guts. If it weren't for you and your incapability to make smart choices, I'd be at home right now, having the time of my life. But no, I'm here, stuck in chair that's three sizes too small because you were too much of a tight ass to spring for a private box. Thanks, by the way. So don't you dare consider us comrades in this misery. My private life is as off limits to you as it possibly could. You don't get to ask me about my job, my life, and least of all, you get to be interested in my love life. There's nothing going on between me and Quincy and that's all I'm ever going to talk to you about it. Got it? Or do you want me to tattoo it into your skin? Beware, I won't be gentle!"

Shay gave her a long, silent look before showing off a wolfish grin. "You're so hot when you talk dirty."

Her nails draw blood and he winced. She gripped his arm even tighter. "I can make your life one miserable hell during the next couple of weeks. Take my advice and think long and hard about the next thing that's going to leave your mouth. It might just be the last thing ever coming from you."

He made a move to speak but closed his mouth again. Then, once he'd yanked his arm free, he glared at her. "You want to set some ground rules? Fine. Next time you and I go out, by all means, buy a new dress. You look like you're wearing a filthy sack of potatoes. I'm having an image to uphold and you ain't making it easy. Also," he added as he rubbed his sore limb, "I'm not into S&M so keep your hands to yourself. You think you can make my life a living hell? Why don't I come by at your school tomorrow and we'll see just how good I am at that as well. If I remember correctly, you're hardly popular. Let's see if I can make it even worse. You know I'm never afraid of a good challenge. So you see, this isn't what either of us wanted, but in order to survive, we'll have to work together. Agreed?"

With a clenched jaw, she nodded reluctantly.

"Good. Now about your private life, I couldn't care less. I got your 'no' the last time and I'm not one to beg. The reason I asked about Quincy is that rather sooner than later he will find out about us. If there's something going on between the two of you, it's only going to complicate it. Do I need to worry about that?"

Tersely shaking her head, Jude murmured a faint, "no."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"Like I care!"

"Are you really into Opera?"

Her shoulders slouched. "I hate it."

"Then by all means let's get out of here!"

She followed willingly.

xxxxxx

They had spent the rest of the evening in a small bar, waiting for the time to pass until they could leave and smile into the lenses of a dozen paparazzi that were following them through the night and pretend they had just shared the greatest date of all times. To her utter amazement, between bickering and scowling at each other, the evening had been half as bad as she'd expected. Not that she'd ever consider actually dating him again but as company he wasn't the worst. For what it was worth, they shared the same misery after all and she figured she could have ended up being the hired escort of someone much more uncooperative than him.

Like Tommy.

"Jude." His tone was emotionless and unfazed as he entered his office the next afternoon, finding her sitting behind his desk, doing what he'd more or less forced her to do. Her job.

"Mr. Quincy."

"Mister?" He quirked a brow, wondering if he should be amused or not. "Since when you're calling me that?"

She barely lifted her gaze to look at him. "I believe that is the appropriate way of addressing one's superior. Do you disagree? I could call you Mr. DuTois, if you preferred. Or just the plain, old _Sir_. _Master_, maybe. Though that's a bit over the top, I should say."

He sat down across her, studying her for a long while. "Are you making fun of me or are you just mad?"

"A little bit of everything, I suppose. But you brought it upon yourself. After you so kindly informed me of my binding contract I figured we should act a little more professional around here. Things have clearly spiraled out of control due to a lack of propriety." She grabbed a picture frame that had this morning not been there before and turned it around. "I took the liberty of framing your wedding picture for you. As a reminder, for the both of us," she added almost under her breath. "If you won't let me quit, I will make sure to stay as far away from you as possible."

Two hands drove through his hair in a very frustrated manner and Tommy leaned forward, lowering his voice, afraid of who might be listening since the door wasn't closed. "I never…" He sighed heavily. "Do you think this is easy for me?"

"You certainly have more experience in these things than I do, considering—"

"Considering I was your first?" He hissed. "No, Jude. I have not the least idea how to handle this! I can't get you out of my head. You're the first thing on my mind the second I wake up and the last thing I think about before falling asleep. I told Darius about the contract because I didn't know how else to make you stay. I don't know what to do or where to go from here, but I can't let you just walk out of my life. I can't," he said again, more ardently, allowing his emotions to show. "What happened between us is as new to me as it is to you!"

"Is it?" When she heard a rustling sound from nearby, she quickly went to close the door. "Do you even know what happened? Cause you're talking about us having sex and I'm talking about everything that happened since the moment we met!" Anger began to show.

"It wasn't just sex for me either," he snapped back.

"Really?" Her voice began to break. "Cause I slept with a married man and if you think I did that just for the pleasure of it…"

Practically jumping out of his chair, he was in front of her in a split second, cupping her face so gently she felt like a porcelain doll. And she really was about to break apart. "I would never think of you that way, Jude." His touch shattered all her carefully built defenses against him. This close to him, this tenderly handled, she felt so lonely, realizing once again he wasn't hers to keep. "The problem," he whispered too hushed, "is that I don't think at all about these things around you. All I can focus on is how badly I want to touch you, hold you, kiss you…"

As he lowered his head, she turned her head away, virtually in the last second. "Tommy, no!"

His lips met her neck. He found himself unable to fight the urge of tasting the silken tissue of her skin, just below her earlobe, sending a deftly shiver through her body.

"No," she whispered again, and then louder, pushing him away. "No!"

The expression on his face showed of confusion. "Jude…"

"Stop _wanting_," she barked, angry with herself as much as she was with him. "Just because you want something, you can't just take it! You're married!" She picked the picture frame up and shoved it roughly into his hands. "Stop forgetting that!"

"But—"

"No _but_," Jude shot harshly. "You're married. You said 'yes' to another woman and I'm not yours to have!"

"It's not that easy," he retorted, irritated that she was pushing him away. "Don't tell me you don't feel anything, Jude. I can't just ignore that. _We_ can't just ignore that!"

"We have to," she practically yelled. He was so damned stubborn, ferociously refusing to listen to her. "Let me make this very clear, Tommy: For as long as that wedding band is on your hand, I will not let anything happen again!"

"If it takes a divorce—"

She slapped him.

Jude stared at him in shock, having not intended to do so and yet it had come so quickly, so full of disgust for what he had been about to offer. Her eyes as wide as his, her face probably as distressed, she shook her head. "Don't you dare take this lightly! Don't you dare get divorced for another sexual act. Your wife married you, prepared to spend the rest of her life with you. Don't you dare not take that serious! I told you, Tommy: It was one night and if was never supposed to happen. And if you would have let me walk away, like I wanted, this whole thing would be no longer an issue. But you didn't. Again, you wanted something and you didn't care for anything, for _anyone_ else. So here I am, doing my duty, and nothing but that and I would appreciate if you just left me alone."

For a long, unbearably tense moment he stared at her until finally leaving the office.

It was then, for the first time since that night, that Jude cried. Not about her guilt, not about having slept with a married man, but because she'd fallen utterly in love with him and had most likely just ruined every chance of ever being with him again. So she sat down in his big leather chair, tugged up her knees and wept until there were no more tears left.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 12

A little over two years ago…

"_Jude, may I introduce Charles Henley. He's the head of Darius' talent scouting department and THE person to know if you want a contract. Which of course you do." Portia winked at Jude, whose cheeks had turned a crimson red. "Don't worry. I took the liberty of telling him **all** about you, including that you're just had your eighteen's birthday, and he has expressed a great interest in getting to know you." Portia had told her that, for now, being eighteen was better. When he was prepared to sign her, she could still come clean. But he had to be convinced of her, first. Curling one finger, motioning for her to enter the room more fully, Portia smiled at Jude almost seductively. There was a hidden grin tugging secretly on her lips, every now and then slipping into visibility. _

_Jude gulped down the rest of her Long Island Ice Tea, assured by Portia it contained next to nothing of liquor, and stepped closer, holding up her hand. "I'm Jude. Jude Harrison."_

_Exchanging looks with Portia, he gave a small chuckle. "Not your first drink, huh?"_

_Jude gave a sheepish shrug. For the last hour and a half Portia had made sure there was always a drink in her hand while a variety of men had come up and introduced themselves. It was funny, she thought, but each time she had mentioned her interest in the music biz, they'd all transformed into either producers or managers or talent scouts. This one right in front of her, however, seemed real and even Portia vouched for him. "I really do love to sing," she giggled. _

"_I just bet. Shall we sit?" He already lowered himself onto a velvet couch that curled along the wall. The room, a custom-made VIP area, secluded and designed entirely as a circle, was kept in dim colors with barely lit chandeliers dangling from the rather high ceiling. Jude took a seat, feeling at last a bit tipsy. "So you're a singer?" He took hold of her free hand, gently touching it as he placed it on his leg. "For me to sign you, you'll have to convince me of your talent. You are aware of that, are you?"_

_All but prepared to perform right now, Jude swallowed. "I…uh…maybe we could meet tomorrow? At a better place?" Oh no, he let go of her hand! Jude mentally slapped herself. Why'd she allowed herself to drink so much? She couldn't possible hold a tune right now, but that was precisely what she ought to have been prepared for! There went yet another chance of reaching her dream._

_A small laughter erupted from the man sitting next to her and who – to her utter surprise – scooted even closer. "I was just joking. Tonight is all about fun. Sign for me whenever you're ready. Tomorrow, next week, next year – I don't care. For now let's just have another drink."_

"_I don't know." Jude jiggled the not yet empty glass in her hand. "I think I've had enough."_

"_Ice Tea? You've had enough Ice Tea? That's impossible. Nothing bad ever came from some harmless drink."_

_Afraid of making an idiot out of herself, she let herself be talked into another one. All to keep him happy. Maybe this was the last chance she'd ever get. She couldn't afford to lose it. "Maybe without any alcohol..."_

"_I'll take care of it," Portia suggested instantly. "You two get acquainted. I'll take care of the rest..."_

_xxxxxxxxx_

Tommy sat behind the soundboard, glaring threateningly at the guy on the other side of the glass wall. "I can't believe she's dating Shay." He'd just found out. By accident, no less. After coming back from his lunch break, he had found the lovey-dovey couple holding hands in front of a group of reporters invited to document a typical day of Shay Mills. Of course all had been carefully set up. Every employee had been told to wear proper attire that day. No other artist was allowed to record, afraid one would take away attention from Shay. Even Laura had been advised to keep her distance from the studio, to not let the accompanying photographers find too much interest in her and Tommy. For some reason nobody, though, had found it important to drop a hint at him as well. Not even his wife had told him about this farce before it had begun playing out in front of him.

Sitting right next to her husband in front of the soundboard, purposely ignoring to yield spotlight, she eyed the spectacle of Shay making smiley-faces at Jude with disbelief. "Shay…" she murmured, "I don't believe this. After everything—"

"After how badly he treated her, you mean?" Tommy didn't remember ever telling her about Jude and Shay's past. It was unlikely he had. And indeed, he was a bit surprised Laura was as shocked as he was. "Did you know they dated?" He inquired absentmindedly, too occupied sneaking glances at Jude, who cowered in the back of the booth, laughing at Shay's actions while photographers happily snapped away.

Laura gave a sideways shrug. "Uh, yeah, Shay told me. They've become a couple quite…_suddenly_."

"Yeah. What a timing," he grumbled. He didn't want to believe Jude was with Shay to keep her distance from him, but what other reason could there be? True emotions? He inwardly scoffed. "Seriously, what's in it for her? He'll only end up hurting her again. Guys like Shay don't change!"

"Says the reformed Lothario," Laura jabbed, meeting his eyes. "I don't believe that's the true love either, but people can change. I really hope they can. For your sake," she put with a little too much fierceness. "Otherwise you'd still be sleeping around."

"Who says he isn't?"

Tommy cringed and Laura swiveled around, ready to attack. "Didn't I tell you to go to hell?"

"You did. I was invited," Portia announced. "Darius _is_ my brother. You do remember that, right? Or is all that hairspray and the cheap make-up finally getting to you? Early dementia maybe? Poor you," she cooed, smiling at Tommy. "Stuck with a goo-brained wife. How utterly unfair! Then again, even the Plague would be too kind for you."

He merely rolled his eyes. "This is private discussion, Portia. The door was closed. You didn't knock. Please leave."

"So polite, my dear ex-husband. Don't fret. I'm gone in a minute. I came by only to hand these to your lovely wife." Portia handed her a plain manila envelope. "I know, I know. I promised for these to find you sooner, but somehow every secretary working here refused to give me your address. How's that? I wonder."

"What's that?" Not Laura, but Tommy asked, reaching for the envelope. To his surprise Laura denied it. "What the—"

His wife only shook his head. She remembered what Portia had said about pictures of Jude, allegedly some proof for her 'shameful' past. "Later," she dismissed Tommy.

Portia grinned, her dark eyes sparkling mischievously. "Please tell me I didn't initiate a fight. I would be _so_ sorry."

"Like hell," Tommy retorted, lacking any more patience to deal with her. "Get lost."

"In a little while. First I have to say 'hi' to the newly reunited couple. Isn't it funny how Jude always looks for men able to help her? Money, opportunities, fame… It does make one marvel! Anyway, see you later." She swaggered off into the booth, and both Tommy and Laura could see the smile drifting from Jude's face, immediately being replaced by something that appeared to be disgust, mixed with fear. She then left the booth.

"I hate that woman." Laura seethed.

Tommy gave a nod, for once quite on the same side with his wife on this matter. Then his eyes landed on the envelope and he reached for it again.

Once more Laura stopped him. "I swear to God, Tommy: If you look into this envelope without my approval, you'll regret it."

A short chuckle slipped from his lips until he noticed the sternness in her eyes. "What that hell is in that envelope?" he snapped.

"I don't know. I honestly don't. But I know why Portia gave it to me. I won't let her succeed. So you can't look inside. Whatever it is, it's not what it'll look like. And for the sake of your friendship with Jude, I need you to promise me not to look inside!"

"My friendship with Jude? What's that got to do with that?" he asked, more than ever interested in whatever secret that damned envelope contained. "And since when do you care about my friendship with Jude? You were pretty clear about your opinion on her!"

"For once in your life just accept something as it is. You don't get what you want this time, Tom. Deal with it!" She gave his unresponsive lips a peck, sighed and stood up. "See you later. Don't kill Shay!"

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Laura sat inside her car, just outside G-Major, staring at the pictures in her hands. Portia hadn't promised too much – this really was some kind of proof. But for what? She was in the biz for too long not to know how misleading pictures could be. And this one, well, it certainly was misleading. Sprawled out on top a velvet couch was Jude, wearing nothing but underwear, while some guy with longish blond hair was on top of her, kissing her throat. There was hardly anything erotic about those pictures – about half a dozen that they were, all pretty much alike. It was more a scene from a really bad movie. Bad lightning, too much liquor glasses on the table in front of them and a horrible, alcohol induced reddish color on Jude's face. Her cheeks, pale and obviously hot, contrasted starkly against the dark background. Her eyes were closed, her arms practically stiff and her mouth closed. No, this wasn't the beginning of a sexual experience. It looked rather like the start of a nightmare and judging from the little heap of white powder on the table, next to what appeared to be a hundred dollar bill, she could only imagine the nightmares Jude must be having ever since.

Anger rose in her. Obviously Portia had made the pictures. She must have made them. How else would she have gotten her hands on them? For now she stashed them in the glove department, closed it and started the car. Maybe she'd burn them. Or give them to Jude. Maybe.

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Tommy had followed Jude out of the studio and into the lobby, dying to speak with her about the envelope Laura had gotten from Portia but also about the fact that somehow Shay had weaseled his way back into Jude's life. But when he found her at the reception, he was stunned to find her shivering, shaking, pale as a ghost, staring at someone who was talking to Darius in his doorway.

"Are you okay?" He stepped closer, placing on hand carefully on her shoulder, trying not to spook her. "Jude?" He followed her gaze and frowned, looking at the man Darius was speaking with. That face, it seemed familiar. But the name had escaped him. Maybe a former employee? His focus shifted back to Jude, who was still in shock. "Hey…" He gave her a gentle nudge. "Jude!"

She barely acknowledged him, only faintly whispering, "I didn't know he still worked here."

"Who? The guy with Darius? Who is he? I know that I've seen him before…"

"Charles Henley, talent scout for G-Major." That's what Portia had introduced him as. About the same time she'd been sold by her as an eighteen-year-old naïve, stupid girl willing to everything it would take. _Everything_, as Portia had highlighted. Several times.

Tommy looked at him again. "Right! I knew I remembered him from somewhere. How do you know him, or rather that he works here?" A quizzing expression deepened on his face as he observed Jude.

Her eyes met him squarely, open, wide, panicked. "Whatever happens, whatever he tells you about me – I'm not that person anymore. You have to believe me!"

"Not what person?" He began to worry. Obviously something had happened in Jude's life and it had left a lot of scars on her. If only she'd just tell him! "Talk to me, Jude. Please. What happened? Does it have anything to do with Portia? She dropped by earlier to give Laura an envelope. Do you know what was in there?"

He hadn't believed it was possible for Jude to pale any more. Her eyes began to flutter and he felt her gripping his arm for support. He was about to scoop her up into his arms and carry her anywhere, mostly away from Charles, when it was exactly he who spotted Jude, angrily turning to Darius, wildly gesticulating, confusing Darius as much as everyone else who might be looking.

"Let's go," Tommy suggested quickly, all but pushing her out the door.

Jude didn't object.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You brought me here? Out of all places, why here?" Jude tossed her jacket into some corner, angry. "You could have just dropped me off at home!"

"I could have," Tommy agreed, his jacket joining Jude's on the floor. Usually he took more interest in taking care of his designer outfits. They were expensive after all. But not today. Not when Jude acted as though he was the enemy. "But I didn't. Start talking. What the hell was all that about Charles? How do you know him and what did you mean by not being that person anymore?"

"It's none of your business!" She felt like a dog trapped in a corner. Like that dog she started showing her teeth.

"Oh no, that's not going to cut it this time. Not when I find you scared witless over someone that I still can't believe you even know. Start talking, Jude."

"It's private, Tommy. None of your business."

He wouldn't let her walk away this time. "You know all about me, Jude. Everything. You know that I cheated on my wife. You know that I struggle with my marriage. That I don't love her. We slept together, for crying out loud. I think we're passed 'private'!"

When she turned to look at him, he was astonished to find tears shimmering in her eyes. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me," he pleaded. "I'm in no position to judge anyone. And even if I were, I know you. Whatever happened, I'll be on your side! Stop shutting me out. Please!"

"You'll just end up hating me. Like I hate myself." And then she started crying. Heart-wrenching, gut-churning, heavy, breathless sobs.

A little over two years ago…

"_You look pretty young for an eighteen year old," Charles observed as he took the empty long-drink glass from her hand. His fingertips brushed her knuckles and Jude tugged her hand away, startled by the jolt of electricity she felt. He smirked at her, which resulted in a thorough blush that spread across her face. A drunken giggle slipped from her throat. And a hiccup. _

_Their thighs were touching. Jude's skirt had ridden up, exposing much of her leg. If she were sober she'd have tugged it down. But now, every time she even noticed, someone said something and then, just like that, her train of thought would be disturbed all over again, leaving her only capable of focusing what was being said and not what happened elsewhere. She had lost count on the amount of drinks she'd had. Or the variety of people that had come and gone, to greet either Portia or Charles. _

_There was a table between Jude and Charles, who sat on one bench, and Portia, who leaned across them against a comfy cushion, fumbling with a camera. She was busy capturing many moments of that night. There were a dozen empty glasses on the table. And there was a bit of white powder. And a few hundred dollar notes. Just like in the movies she remembered watching with Sadie. Bad clichés. Then again, this wasn't a movie, was it?_

_Charles tugged a note from the table and rolled it up. "You want? It's not bad. Actually," he laughed, "it's quite awesome. People just say it's bad cause they don't know. But those who know better know what's good for them. You're one who knows what's good for her, aren't you?"_

_Jude giggled again. Nervously. "I really don't know. I mean I've never done it before."_

"_There's a first time for everything. Remember, that's tonight's motto," Portia chirped, taking a note as well, mirroring the moves of Charles. "And you don't want to be the boring girl that doesn't know how to live life in this biz, do you?" There was a pointed look in her eyes, aimed at Jude. It translated, "Do it!"_

_And Jude did. With shaking hands. Sweaty hands. _

"_Good girl…" Charles encouraged, lining up the coke. Portia snapped a picture._

"I don't remember much of what happened afterwards. Only bits and pieces." Jude had found a spot in front of the tall window, the same one she'd gazed out before. Naked. When she and Tommy had… She gulped and closed her eyes. "At night, when I'm asleep, I often dream about the night. Sometimes new memories resurface. I don't know if they are real or imaginations. Whatever they are, I wish they would stay away."

Tommy, who was sitting on a couch, listened silently.

"I can't say how much time passed before the night was over." Tugging her sweatshirt closer around her neck, fighting the shivers that overcame her, she inhaled deeply, as if bracing herself for the part she'd tell him next. "I don't know if I knew then, or if I came to understand over time. He kissed me. And I let him. He wanted to have sex with me. It was never about the record deal. I'll never forgive myself for being so damn stupid. But what's even worse, I'll hate myself for the rest of my life for not saying 'no' when I could have. When I _should_ have. Because for me it was about the record deal. And, whether for the drugs, the alcohol, or just the idea of standing on stage one day, I never pushed him away. Portia told me that it takes eagerness to succeed. And that night…I was eager. It ended pretty ugly, though. Portia was snapping away on her camera when someone walked in and recognized me as Shay's ex. Portia and Charles began to argue about me, about my age – apparently he genuinely believed I was eighteen. I'm not sure what difference my age made at that point. He called me a whore for lying about my age, for wanting to sleep my way up. He told me if I ever told anyone, he'd say I begged him for everything that he did and that nobody would believe my side of the story. I wasn't even sure I believed my side of the story. What was my side?" Her eyes met Tommy's. "He was right. Whether I asked for it or not, I never said 'no'. It was the last I saw of him. The next day I got a letter and a check. Maybe he got too nervous and wanted reassurance. If I cashed the check in, he'd consider it a promise from my side to keep everything between us. I never did. Portia showed her true face pretty quickly as well and she informed me that, should I ever tell anyone of what happened, she'd publish the pictures. She also sent me a check over a thousand dollars. In case I needed more drugs to cope with…" Jude swallowed down her anger. "In case I'd need more drugs to forget the fact that I'm a cheap whore and very bad person. Her words. And then she, too, left my life. Some waiter put me in a cab that night. When I came home, I realized how far I had gone, how stupid I had been, and I swore to myself that I'd never sing again. I sold myself for a record deal. I would have slept with that man for a record deal. I promised myself I'd never do that again."

He still didn't say anything.

Jude turned to gaze out the window, not daring to meet his eyes afraid of that disgusted look she'd found in her own eyes when she'd come home that night long ago. "Now you know."

"What did Portia mean? About never telling anyone? She orchestrated that whole thing only it would never get mentioned?"

"The day I found Shay making out with Eden, I accidentally saw her doing coke and giving someone a…well, a blow job. I guess she was afraid of her own reputation and so set out to make sure I keep my mouth shut. I don't know what her endgame was. Maybe she wanted me to have sex with him. Or maybe she just wanted those pictures to keep me quiet. I wouldn't have told anyone, ever. If she'd never called me and invited me to that party, I'd have forgotten her by now."

"I can't believe she'd do that." When he found Jude's figure leaning against a cold wall, he stood up and walked over to her. "I always knew she had a dark side, but…"

"Yeah. She's a real bitch."

"And Charles…"

"I guess he's afraid he'll get into trouble, should I tell. I don't know what he will tell you, Tommy. And there's certainly a whole lot he can say that's as true as it can be, but for all the things that I don't remember about that night, I do remember him threatening me. He was vicious and scary and I know he'll do whatever he can to make sure nobody will believe a word if I speak up. Not that I want to—"

He turned her body abruptly. "What do you mean? You should tell the world, Jude. Portia manipulated you and he used you."

"It happened two years ago. Nothing that happened was entirely their fault. Nobody kept me against my will. I'm as much to blame as anyone. And you have to promise me that you won't do a thing about it, please! Let it rest. I only told you because you begged me to and…and maybe you have a right to know. For all that I know about you, it was time I told you something about me in return. It's also the reason I was so angry about the money you gave me after…" She moved away from him. "Just once I want to kiss someone and not find money the next day." Her laugh was bitter.

His hand took hers, engulfing it gently. For a short moment she allowed it. She savored the warmth it offered. Dipping his head forward, his chin rested against her temple. Then he pecked her softly. "I never meant it as anything else than an opportunity for you to keep the house. There was no hidden agenda. And if you had told Laura, I wouldn't have blamed you or had been disappointed or felt betrayed. I broke a vow. I should feel guilty. Not you."

When she pulled her hand from his, he wrapped his arms around her and waited for a moment until she ceased to push him away. Once she stopped that, she pulled him closer and held on firmly. "I miss you," she whispered, half-ashamed, half-desperate. "I know I have no right to feel that way, but— Ever since Dad cheated on my mother, I was so sure I'd never become the other girl. The other woman. It was the one thing about myself that I was dead-certain about. But all it took was an opportunity." Misty eyes met waiting ones. "Who am I, Tommy? Tell me, cause I don't know anymore."

He cut her off with a fierce kiss and when he finally stopped ravishing her lips, breathless yet hardly satisfied, he looked deeply into her eyes. "You're Jude."

"I have to go." She was running away. Again.

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Darius closed the door and turned to lock before putting the phone back to his ear. "Andrew, thanks for calling back so quickly. Did you find out who sent me the picture of Shay doing coke? Cause I swear to God nobody is stupid enough not to know its value. Why give it away as a freebee? There's some catch about to come hit me and I'd like to be prepared."

The man on the other line gave a bark of laughter. "You'll never believe what I found out. The guy behind this is no other than Chaz Blackburn. Does the name ring a bell with you? Big shot in the nineties, big failure ever since."

"I remember Chaz!" It'd have been a colossal task to forget him, Darius thought bothered. Alongside Tommy, he'd been the reason for his boldness. They had caused him more grey hair than all other artists combined. "What the hell is he getting from this? Why sent it anonymously? How'd you find out?"

"He FedEx'ed you the you letter. I traced the tracking number. He used a credit card. Very amateur. I'm not sure he wanted to stay unknown. Never mind, I texted you his current contact information. Pleasure making business with you. Give me a call if something new comes up!"

"I will. Thanks again."

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	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 13. Nothing Left To Lose.

"You know," Laura sneered as she put her drink down, "I'm starting to think you're stalking me." One glance to her right and she acknowledged with a heavy sigh that Portia took the seat next to her. "You're not planning on kidnapping me at some point, are you? Some really bad soap opera storyline in the making? Revenge on my marrying Tommy?" Her face showed of exhaustion. "You're beginning to tire me. Vastly."

Winking for the waiter and ordering a glass of Vodka, Portia crossed her legs, adjusted her skirt and smoothed out her hair. Laura rolled her eyes. "You saw the pictures. I can tell. You're a woman. Like me. We're nosy by nature. Did you ask Jude about them?"

Laura smiled, a wearied, bothered one that was only the replacement for the "Go to Hell!" she'd have much rather thrown at her.

"What did the poor, troubled girl tell you? A heart-wrenching story about me being mean and manipulative towards her? Unfair, no less?"

"She didn't tell me anything. I never asked." Laura let her gaze swipe over her. "Does it vex you? So much evil energy trapped in you and nobody takes you seriously. You're Darius' little sister. Nothing else. Yet you desperately try to sell yourself as a female Machiavelli. I can only imagine the amount of frustration boiling in you." She leaned closer to Portia, whispering, "it shows on your skin. Pimples..."

"Funny."

"Not really. It's the truth, though." Concentrating on her drink, Laura smirked. "Tommy called me _Most Devious Creature_, once. I wonder whether it wasn't a compliment after all. All he ever called you was Manipulative Bitch. Like I said, no recognition of your _skills_."

Portia brought the topic back to Jude. "Ask her about the pictures. I'm dying to find out what she has to say for herself. And be aware: the title of _Most Devious Creature_ might soon go to her. Once she has her sight set on something—"

"Oh my God," Laura exclaimed, genuinely shocked. "You actually do think that Jude is trying to sleep her way up!"

"Is she not?" Portia scoffed. "She'd have killed to get famous when I met her. She'd have slept her way into a record deal, for crying out loud! How can you not see that? If she had told you her side of the story, you'd know. And look where she's now: Little Hubby Q's assistant. Have you ever asked him what they do during overtime? Mark my words, it's only a matter of time before she'll ask for a record deal. She may be more subtle now, but her goal sure hasn't changed."

"I don't get it. Seriously. Even if it's true what you're telling me, why does it bother you so much? Your brother owns a record label. Everybody working for him wants a record deal. Even the secretaries! I think your problem lies much deeper. I think you're scared of her. She's threatening you somehow. Why else would you go through all this trouble?"

Portia choked on her drink, causing Laura to grin. "Dead center. I knew your reasons were much more self-centered." Twirling a strand of her blond hair absentmindedly, she mused, "I wonder what Darius will say once he finds out about whatever it is that you did. Or does he know? Maybe you just don't want the world to know."

"Are you trying to intimidate me?" Having composed herself again, more than dismayed Jude was sitting on something that could entirely ruin her nice, comfortable life, Portia was beginning to worry. And instead of finding an ally in Laura, she turned out to be another roadblock. "You do know I don't react well to threats. What are you going to do? Blow the whistle? Beg Jude to let you in on whatever you think she has on me?"

"Are you daring me?" Laura inquired.

"Maybe."

She shook her head with a sneer. "Just like kindergarten. Seriously, what good from come from that? No, don't worry. I will suggest a different deal and you _will_ agree: I won't snoop, nor will I tell Tommy about you and Chaz. And the other guy. I think if Tommy ever found out about this he'd be far more upset or angry than your brother. And in return, you keep your distance. Because, no kidding, you are getting on my nerves. And that aside, I have not the slightest idea what all that scheming is about. You hate Jude. So what? A lot of people hate you, too, I'm sure. _They_ manage."

"I won't stop until Jude is gone. She can do and be whatever the hell she likes – but not at G-Major."

"Why?"

"Cause," Portia erupted, "I will work there."

Laura nearly dropped from that the bar stool. "Come again?"

Lowering her eyes, actually looking embarrassed, she gulped the rest of her drink down. "I will work at G-Major, starting tomorrow. Happy now? My fashion line went broke because my accountant took off with all my money. I'm sure it thrills you to hear I got screwed. Darius offered me a job and I took it gladly. Who would have figured Jude has already built her nest there! But well, I need the job, so I'll comply for now. No pictures from me. In exchange for silence. But if your little ward gets in my way, I won't guarantee for anything."

"She's not my ward," Laura snapped, surprising herself by that flash of attitude.

A small smile grew on Portia's face after all. "Oh no, here I thought you two were best friends."

Tossing a few bills on the table, Laura stood up, sending one last sneer in Portia's direction. "Stay away from me and I will stay away from you!"

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Tommy slammed the last drawer of Laura's dresser shut. Damn it, where did she hide that envelope? He'd already searched the closet, had gone through her purse collection, ransacked the living room sideboard and even looked through boxes of dozens of old Vogue magazines, stored in the guest room. He hated not knowing something. Ever since Jude had broken apart in his place earlier, he was convinced she'd feel better if she had the pictures, instead of Laura. It was bad enough Portia owned them. His wife didn't need to, as well.

"What are you doing?" Dropping her Chanel purse to the ground, Laura stared disbelievingly at her husband who had one hand buried in the depths of her nightstand.

"Uh…tissues! Paper tissues. I was looking—"

"For paper tissues? You mean the very ones right before your nose, on my nightstand, aren't good enough?" One short glance around the room and she had spotted the disheveled bed and the strewn handbags in front of the closet door. Shaking her head as she pulled up her purse she grabbed inside and fished out the envelope. "Looking for this?"

"How did you—"

"Know?" Laura snorted.

Tommy walked up to her, took the envelope and looked inside. He did want to know how she'd figured out his intent, but didn't ask when something else became obvious to him. "It's empty."

"Yep. I burned what was inside this morning. I knew you would look for it. It was about Jude and you always want to know everything that is about her." Kicking her shoes off, she then stripped off her dress and put on sweat pants and a simple gray shirt of his. Did it bother her that her husband didn't even take a second glance at her barely existent underwear? A little. It didn't surprise her, however.

Tommy threw himself onto the bed, stretched out on his back and groaned. "Seriously, Laura! The last two days nobody was allowed to even mention her name or you'd get at their throats. Suddenly you're angry with me for wanting to know what's going on?" He decided not to mention his conversation with Jude. "What the hell is going on? Can you please decide whether or not you like her? Then I can take note and act accordingly!"

She glared at him. "Gee, Tom, how about _you_ decide whether you care more about me or her. I asked you not to look for the envelope and yet you did. And why? Because the envelope was about Jude!" Taking a seat in front of the vanity table, she began removing her make-up. "It isn't important what I want or how I feel. Because no matter what, you won't act accordingly!" Ever since leaving the bar, ever since seeing Portia, her mood had dropped significantly. Not only did she have to accept Jude in her husband's life, since he'd already made it clear she'd stay there despite her objections. From now on she'd also have to deal with Portia, who wouldn't for all the money in the world stay away from Tommy.

Above all that, all her insecurities about Tommy's fidelity were coming back with a vengeance. And it was undeniably connected to Jude. She did have pity with the girl, yet she was in love with her husband. Jude had been honest before, but was she honest now? If she asked straight out whether she'd slept with her husband, would Jude say 'yes'?

Yes.

Suddenly she just assumed they had done it?

Laura wanted to scream. When had her life become so incredibly complicated? She missed the good old times. The last time Tommy had slept with someone she had cursed him, but also the woman he'd done it with and in her thoughts she'd ripped her into bits and pieces.

Would she do that to Jude as well?

Tommy or not, at some point during the last couple of days she'd grown to like her. How was that possible? That woman might just be the reason her marriage could fall apart. She should hate her. She should do anything to keep her away from her husband. Yet, for whatever reason, she wasn't doing anything. She missed the person she was before meeting Tommy. When she'd still been proud and independent.

Now she was jealous and spiteful, confused and easily angered. She was losing herself and she didn't know how to stop that.

"I asked you if you are okay?!"

Snapping out of her thoughts, she looked at Tommy, startled. "Huh?"

"What's wrong with you? You've been looking into the mirror for minutes, just…staring at yourself! Laura, I know I promised not to look for the envelope, but Jude is acting crazy and I can't help her if you keep things like that from me."

"And why do you need to help her?" she wondered. She met his gaze. "I'm not meaning that in a bad way, or…whatever. I just want to know. Why is she so important to you? I want to understand it."

She might as well have asked him about the meaning of life. Tommy sat up, shrugging, trying to be vague. "She's a good friend." It wasn't a lie. "I care for her. You care for your friends."

"I don't believe that she's just a friend."

Did she know something? Did he dare to ask? "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying nothing," she expressed with distress. "I'm waiting for you to say something. I want to ask you whether you've slept with her, but I'm afraid. I'm afraid you'll say 'yes'. And I'm afraid of what I will have to do when you do say 'yes'. I'm afraid of what 'yes' will do to me. So I am not asking."

"I—" he started, but was stopped by her.

"Don't say anything," she said firmly. "Because, even though I want to know the truth, I'm not ready for you to say 'yes' and I don't know if I believe you if you say 'no' and that's what's making this whole thing so damn complicated. So please don't say anything, okay?"

He nodded.

"Thank you."

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Darius found Kwest in the kitchenette, preparing a sandwich. "Do you mind telling me what the hell is going on in my company?"

Kwest looked up, frowning. "Excuse me?"

With rolling eyes he nodded towards the lobby, which they had in plain sight. Jude was sitting on the big couch, legs tugged up, working on some papers while Tommy stood in the doorway of studio A, watching her with concerned eyes. Meanwhile Portia fumbled with a box of accessories, trying to get comfortable in the bit of space he'd assigned her as a working area. Out of pity he'd hired her. Every time she asked someone for help, they'd feign to be on the run and out of time. The only one remotely supportive was Shay, who of course, was doing anything but working with Tommy, whom he snapped and grumbled at any given opportunity. "This is like kindergarten with paychecks!"

Kwest, who'd always preferred a silent, uneventful working environment, scoffed as he took a bite off his sandwich. "You want me to break it down for you in one sentence?"

"Please," Darius sneered

"Quincy had sex with Jude, who is in love with him while feeling guilty towards Laura, who despises Portia, who again only has Shay on her side, which causes everybody else to stay clear of her because the last time Shay was here he hooked up with half the females employees and they all hate him guts. By the way, whose Salami is this?" He took another bite. "It's really good!"

"Why the hell can't they keep it in their pants?"

"Alien mind control," Kwest suggested with a chuckle. "My advice: Stay clear of it."

"Or I'll just fire Tom, who seems to be the core of all problems."

"You do know you'd only do him a favor, right? He'd pay you for letting him go!"

For a moment Darius just stood there, observing his various employees, until nonchalantly wondering, "Why are you telling me this? Tom is your friend."

"Friendship or not, he went too far when he slept with Jude. I like that girl. Every blind man can see she's in love with him! He did it anyway and went straight back to his wife. So right now I really don't give a damn about any friendship code of conduct."

"Okay. That still doesn't solve my problem."

"Without risking to overstep, it's your nephew that refuses to work with Quincy. If he'd be in the studio, Tom would be there as well. How about starting there?" Finishing the last bits of his lunch, he handed Darius an empty wrapping paper. "We're out of Salami. Nice talking to you."

"You're spending way too much time with T!" Darius yelled after him. "Cocky bastard," he added while heading for his nephew, whom he'd sternly advice to spend some time in the booth. For his own good!

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She was the last one present. Like always, lately. She preferred the silence of G-Major. Home had become a hot seat for her. Constantly she'd to fend off questions about how she'd managed to solve the issue with their house. Keeping it from being sold was one thing and she might have been able to explain that to her father. But explaining how she'd gotten it for free was a lot harder. Not that she blamed her father for being mistrusting. She'd have her issues with such a thing, too. Sadie, while knowing about some basics – dating Shay in exchange for the house – was skeptical as well. For that money, he could have built himself a girlfriend, she'd said.

It was getting troublesome to keep the truth to herself. And so, instead of finding excuses not to say something, she simply stayed away.

Not that Jude minded spending more time at G-Major. Once all the important people, and with that she meant Tommy and Darius, went home, G-Major became a calm and actually nice place to just hang out. In other words: she was all alone with a giant database of music, more instruments than she could play and one kick-ass fast internet connection that could provide any movie she could wish for, which, to top it off, she could watch in D's office on his gigantic flat screen TV while lounging in his big cushy leather chair, eating ice cream she hid inside a big carton saying, "Turnip Soup." Nobody dared to touch that!

And then, when some hours had passed and she was really, really sure that absolutely no one would come back because of anything forgotten or whatever other reason people had to come back, she'd creep back into studio A, turn on the small light in the adjoined booth, take a seat on the floor and strum the guitar idly. Idly would turn to specific and eventually, when she was lost in the marvelous sounds of expensive, handmade guitars that hummed a vibrant diversity according to her fingertips, she'd even feel save enough to whisper words of songs she not quite dared to sing out loud.

She had come to like these evenings spent all alone.

But, as was said, 'All good things must come to an end'. Eventually.

They did that night.

A little after midnight, just when Jude had written down what was absolutely not a new song, but merely a strategically aligned row of words, the big headlight in the main lobby went on and for whatever reason there was – she was not quite sure on the details, since she acted fast and without thinking – she hurried into studio A, flipped the little light in the booth off and hid in the back of the room. The number of people with a key for G-Major was small. Less than four, if she was correct. Well, four actually, if she included herself. That meant that either Tommy, Darius or…crap, what was the name of that office manager D had hired?

Never mind. It could only be one of them.

She wasn't surprised at all when it turned out to be Tommy, stumbling into studio A. He stumbled, or rather tripped, over her bag, which she probably should have picked up when deciding to hide in the back for reasons unknown to her.

"Damn it," he winced, looking at the culprit that had dared to lay on the ground unattended and cursed something that sounded remarkably alike 'Lazy Ass Assistant!' But he wouldn't be as stupid as to call her lazy, was he? Jude didn't think so. Cause he knew she didn't react nicely to that kind of language aimed at her and if he knew she was listening—

Unless he didn't know she was listening. Which was only logic, given she was still hiding in the room.

She remained silent as she observed him rustling through some papers on the soundboard.

When she was absolutely sure he felt alone and undisturbed she could no longer suppress the throbbing urge deep within her, the yearning need, the pressing desire to stand up, lean forward and to yell, "BOOOOOH!"

"IEEEEEH!"

Jude bent over laughing. Sometimes, when reality was far, far away, and she just enjoyed the moment, she could still enjoy a silly moment. "Did you just shriek?"

Tommy was clutching his heart with one hand. "Jesus Fucking Christ!" He wheezed, heretic, "What the bloody hell are you doing here?!"

"Giving you a heart attack, apparently." She crooked her head and grinned mischievously. "Old men really shouldn't sneak around in dark rooms. At your age you're very susceptible for heart failure, Quincy!"

He glared severely. And he still tried to catch his breath. Damn it, she'd really scared him! "Mock me, Jude. Go on." The words were clipped. "I'm this close to calling the police! Are you stealing songs again?"

She cringed, suddenly aware that the computer in Tommy's office was still running while a suspiciously big external hard drive was copying away. "I work here," she reminded him. "I'm not breaking in."

"Just stealing then," he summed up. "Seriously, you could do that during work." His tone was almost icy. "Since you're practically locking yourself in there, and with that locking me out, I wouldn't even notice. So, what's the deal? Besides, this is studio A and I do—" A very intrigued expression grew on his face when he spotted her journal on the couch behind her. "Are you writing again?" Everything else was forgotten. "Can I hear it?"

Hardly meeting his gaze, her eyes small and adverted, she shook her head gently. Almost tiredly. "I told you—"

"I know, I know," he finished, just as tired of hearing her making excuses for not singing. Annoyed he added, "no note from you for me. I get it."

"Then why did you ask?" she all but snapped back.

"While there's a will, there's hope," he said with a faint smile.

"My _will_ says: Stop hoping!"

"Sing for me." He thoroughly ignored her words, went for the couch and grabbed the journal. "It's the one I gave you. But the lock is missing." A faint smile dimpled his cheeks. "Does that mean I'm allowed to sneak a peek?" Not waiting for her reply, he just opened it and switched to the last written page.

_(Nothing Left To Lose, The Pretty Reckless)_

_I was only 19, you were 29  
>It's just 10 years, but it's such a long time<br>In a heartbeat, I would do it all again_

Late night sex, smokin' cigarettes  
>I try real hard but I can't forget<br>Now in a heartbeat, I would do it all again  
>Now I see that you and me were never meant<br>Never meant to be now  
>Now I'm lost somewhere<br>Lost between Elvis and suicide

Ever since the day we died, well  
>I've got nothing left to lose<p>

After Jesus and Rock N Roll  
>Couldn't save my immoral soul, well<br>I've got nothing left  
>I've got nothing left to lose<p>

As Jude found it abnormally hard to move, to take away from him what was rightfully hers, she just watched him becoming silent and enthralled with her lyrics. The songwriter in her instantly became anxious in anticipation for a possible compliment, or at least a judgment. Deep within her, carefully hidden beneath wit and sass, a vibrant innocent girl thrived for acceptance. Acceptance from someone who was a fellow musician. Someone who mattered in the biz.

The older, more wise Jude barked at the young girl, demanding from her to hide and shut up, but she just wasn't listening. Conflicts she'd long thought passed where surging back to life. Did she dare to dream again? Did she dare to risk something again? Most importantly, did she dare to lose herself again?

The idea was frightening. Horrifying. And yet, it was utterly riveting.

Tommy looked up, handed her the journal and smiled. "It wouldn't even take two minutes to print a contract and to sign it, you know? Two minutes. Others wait a lifetime for an opportunity like that. They would kill for those two minutes."

"Or do other things," Jude murmured, surprising Tommy, while she herself gave up all over again and let fear and fright rule her life once more. She closed the journal. "After I told you everything, you should really stop asking me to sing. Is there a reason you're here so late?"

He refused to let this go. "_Nothing left to Lose_. That's the name of the song. If those lyrics speak the truth then what's keeping you from singing?"

"Did you read the whole text? Every word?" she retorted, crisp and demanding. "Cause this song isn't about life, it's about love. And in case you weren't paying attention, it's about you! Don't you dare throw my lyrics back at me. I don't sing anymore!"

"I don't care. Look around, Jude!" He motioned for the dark surroundings. "Nobody but you and me. If you don't want to sign, fine. I can understand that! But why won't you sing? You and me," he said again, meeting her angry stare squarely. "You sang for me before."

Her fists balled as her teeth showed. "Yes, Tommy," Jude spat out, "I remember that. Again, if you had read the song, you'd know that! Or did already forget what happened when the music stopped?!"

"No." Just like that, after a two-letter admission, he leaned down, grabbed her head and kissed those soft lips of hers until her lungs were all out of air.

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	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 14: You have to decide.

He didn't quite remember how exactly they had wound up on the couch, with him on top of her, devouring her lips as if they were the very essence of life. It wasn't as though he had intended for the night to unfold this way. Honestly, when he'd come to G-Major for a couple of missing hard-drives he'd been supposed to check, he had never thought to find her here. But she had been here. Then they'd talked about music. Her music. Convincing her to sing again, record deal or not, was still one of his most pressing priorities. Too many untalented people had come and gone. The Producer in him craved someone like Jude. A raw diamond. Well, actually, she was already sparkling pretty brilliantly.

And her song, so beautiful and full of honest emotion, had only urged him on.

But then she'd shifted the topic of conversation, reminding them both of what had been, unforgettable as it certainly was, and without one contemplating second he'd just acted and now here he was, kissing and groping like some horny kid. The platinum wedding band, along with the hand carrying it, was buried deep within Jude's silken strands of hair, cupping the back of her head, angling it just the right way for his mouth to meet hers in increasingly frantic kisses. The other hand was inside the back of her jeans, trying to push them down her lithe body. The buttons weren't undone, so the task proved to be extraordinary complicated. But as his fingertips were stroking along the smooth skin of her butt, the idea of letting go of either part of her to undo just one button never crossed his mind.

Her legs were long, almost longer than he remembered. And they were curled around his middle, pulling his body further against hers. Eager hands were tugging on his shirt, nearly afraid to take it off, for that would lead to naked bodies and naked bodies led to sex and Jude had made it very clear to him that they were never to have sex again.

"I need you," she croaked.

Screw the 'never have sex again'-part! Finally he pulled his hand from her pants and yanked the buttons of her jeans apart. "We shouldn't…" he found himself uttering, but Jude shook her head.

"I know." Her lips scorched his with a blazing kiss and he was almost sure her teeth drew blood when they sunk into his lower lip. "I know," she said again. But she didn't stop. "I don't want to. I _need _you!"

Should he take offense? He inwardly shook his head as he tugged the pants off her creamy legs, following the line of exposed skin with a fiery gaze and an even fierier mouth. It had been too long to take this the slow way. Too much time had passed to stop and appreciate. To enjoy the details of her body. Tommy ripped her panties off, practically plunging one long digit into her wet depth, enticing a sinfully hoarse moan from her. "Oh God," she moaned, drilling her nails into his lower back, trying to find the strength to take off his clothes as well. Or just the pants. Hell, if she'd get that damn zipper down then they could— "Oh Yes!" All thoughts vanished from her mind when he curled that finger within her, bringing forth a marvelous sensation that sent shivers into every single corner of her body.

He took over the clothing issue and pushed his pants out of the way before placing his throbbing, steeled flesh at her entrance, pushing in agonizingly slow. She arched, moaning, growling, acting all but shy. She was on the verge of an orgasm already and from the way he ravished and ravaged her, she was sure he was just as close. All happened so fast. Thrusts. Kisses. Gropes. Bites. Licks. Moans. Everything.

She came on a scream.

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"When I said that we fired people for copying unreleased songs, I actually meant to say we've sued them and made them pay a whole lot of money." He handed her the external hard-drive she'd forgotten in his office last night. She'd forgotten a lot of things last night. Her promise never to sleep with him for one. But also to say 'Goodbye'. "You just left. I came back from the bathroom and you were gone. All I found was a ripped pair of panties."

Jude shushed him harshly. "Shhhhhh! Thank you, by the way. I really liked those!" Taking a deep breath, she leaned closer, given that they were in his office with the door wide open. "What was I supposed to do? Stay behind to talk? About what? All has been said."

"And yet," he replied, rather vigorously, "last night happened anyway. Obviously, we _should_ talk again!"

"ABOUT WHAT?"

"Sex, Jude. About us, doing it any chance we get."

She shoved the hard-drive into her bag and tossed it onto the couch. Anger was rising steadily. She knew he didn't deserve to be on the receiving end, since he'd been…well, he had been and still was himself. But she? She'd tossed all her morals over board. For what? A good screw, apparently. Or two. Or three… Covering her face with both hands, she shook her head. "If you had just let me leave…"

"Yeah, well, I didn't. And I don't intend to let you leave now, either."

"Last night doesn't change anything, Tommy. You're still married."

He knew that well enough. Only lately, or rather since his first night with Jude, he was beginning to doubt his marriage was meant to last for a lifetime. He'd tried to broach the topic with Jude, but she'd slapped him for that. Not that she'd even let him finish. Her only comment had been a fierce demand to regard his wife's feelings.

Like he didn't care for Laura! He cared! Clearly the concept of monogamy and guilt was escaping him, but that didn't mean he wasn't aware of his actions! And if he had a choice, he'd be the kind of husband Laura deserved, but all it took was a glance at Jude and his entire focus shifted. Then it wasn't his wife he thought about, but his assistant. And not just superficially. Suddenly the rest of the world ceased to matter. Those feelings weren't familiar. He'd never felt that kind of attraction for someone before. He didn't know how to handle it.

She could hardly blame him for that, could she? For falling victim to his emotions? He wanted to sigh heavily.

"Am I bothering you?" Jude gaped at him. "Cause I swear you just rolled your eyes at me!"

Had he? Oh God!

He wasn't even in control of his own actions anymore. What had she made him become!

"You should go," Jude suggested eventually.

Tommy scoffed. "This is _my_ office!"

"Yes," Jude said, giving a pointed look, "but it's four-thirty and you're expected in studio A! You _do_ remember you're a producer, right? You know, the guy that pushes the _Record_-button…"

"I also handle the sound level and some other switches," he retorted stubbornly, feeling awfully childish and stupid in that second. "Dammit, Jude. What the hell are we supposed to do?!" He brought them back to the obvious issue. "Screw the recording session. We've had sex and I can't just let it go and move on."

"Why not? You've done it before!"

"This is different!"

If she wouldn't be so damn scared of pain, she'd have punched the wall right now. This was all so frustrating. It was hard enough as it was. But now she had to actually push away the one guy she wanted for herself more than anything? "If you would just let me—"

"Stop, okay? Quitting is not an option."

"Then what else is?" She felt stuck, always saying the same words again and again. When he didn't say anything in return, she grabbed her bag and her jacket. "If you won't leave, I will. What's the point of talking? We've messed up, Tommy. But I already told you that. And the only way out of this mess will only bring more trouble. We should stick to our initial plan of keeping our distance. You have Laura to care about and I have Shay."

"Shay?! What the hell has he to do with anything?"

"The whole world believes I'm his girlfriend. If this," her finger motioned between them, "comes out, have you for a second considered the headlines?" She was already scared enough of the press. Ever since she'd begun dating Shay, those paparazzi had found a new victim in her. She didn't want to know the level it would multiply to once their affair became public.

His lack of reply and the sheepish expression on his face told her everything she already knew. "Quincy, I'll be back tomorrow." She motioned for the computer on his desk. "All important stuff is highlighted, the schedule updated and your mails sorted. I have to go."

He raised his head, meeting her eyes. "Where to? You have to meet your _boyfriend_?"

"No. I have to meet my family. A family I hardly see anymore. A family who is increasingly suspicious about my job and the people I'm working with. Not that I can blame them! So, please, can I go now?"

He resigned. "Sure. See you tomorrow."

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"Are you—" Stuart wanted to say a lot of words to describe his daughter's actions but none seemed appropriate for one's own child. So he sighed instead. "You're dating Shay again. The bastard that broke your heart. Tell me, how am I supposed to react to that. Especially since you're only doing it so we can keep the house? If your mother knew about this—"

"She'd care as little as she's caring for us now," Sadie chimed in to her sister's defense.

Jude nodded. And smiled apologetically. "Look, Dad, I know it's a lot to accept, but I didn't start dating Shay so I could get the house. Darius wants me to do it and he said he'd pay me for it. I took a chance and asked for the house." She decided not to bother either her sister or her father with the remaining details, disturbing as they might be. "He accepted. Shay really needs good publicity and Darius is as rich as Croesus. He doesn't care for the money. Buying our house for him is like buying a DVD is for us."

Those rich people…

Stuart squeezed his daughter's hand gently. "He's not making you do…other stuff?" His grip tightened. Jude shuddered.

"GOD NO! I would never do that!" A sharp pain stung in the back of her throat as it dawned on her that she had indeed done it once. Or almost. "There's a lot of craziness that came with my new job. Tommy, Darius and all the others live a different life than we do. Can't you just trust me and accept things as they come?"

"Honey, I can accept that your boss is buying you a thousand dollar guitar because he's rich and he has no idea what an appropriate gift is made of. But I'm having my issues when the same guy comes and hands my baby girl the keys to a car worth more than all cars I ever had, combined. I cannot accept that you get a house in exchange for a date with your ex. Rich or not, these people are nuts. And I'm worried you're becoming one of them one day."

"I won't. They have the money. Not me."

"You only have a credit card," Sadie chirped. Maybe she was the slightest bit jealous. But, like they said in the Spiderman-movie, great buying power comes with great accountability.

Jude tossed a glare. "Not helping!"

"Talking about that credit card," Stuart said.

Jude exhaled heavily. "Just to run errands for Quincy! For which he also gave me the car. A car I very much have to return one day." She was about to list the insane amounts of errands she had already been assigned, to show how stressful her life was, instead of devious and shadowy as her father clearly thought it to be. But the door rang and she was grateful for an interruption.

Her mood hit rock bottom the second the door opened. "Oh boy. Just when I thought the day couldn't get worse."

Tommy stepped inside, not waiting to be invited. "Hi, Jude. Thanks for the warm welcome. I remembered your comment about your family's concerns about all things job-wise. Figured I drop by and help you out."

She still held the door open. "Not needed. What the hell," she hissed angrily, "are you really doing here? When I said I want to stay as far away from you as possible, I meant that there has to be an actual distance between us. Miles, preferably! Go away! Don't you have a wife to entertain?"

He smugly grinned. "Am I sensing jealousy?"

"Wait a moment and you'll be sensing some pain, too."

She rolled up her sleeves and while at first he was amused by her actions, when she balled her fists and started to aim, he jumped away a bit. "Whoa, calm down, I came in peace. To talk!"

She remembered the countless magazines she'd read, written by women complaining their boyfriends and husbands never wanted to talk. Why wasn't Quincy one of them? Couldn't he for once fit into a good old cliché?

"Tommy!" Sadie beamed at him. "Dad, it's Jude's boss! Didn't you just wish you could talk to him?"

Tommy's features became a symbol for fear. Jude thought that fear served him right. She closed the door. "You know what? Please come inside. There's some conversation going on in the kitchen. My father will be delighted to fill you in."

Stuart came from the kitchen. He suspiciously eyed the surprising guest before leaping at the opportunity. "Just the person I was hoping for. Sadie, Jude, don't you have to be somewhere? Outside the house?"

"Yes!" The older Harrison suggested readily. "Grocery shopping, right Jude?" She dragged her sister along, away from what surely would be one conversation to witness. But Sadie had a more pressing matter to discuss with her sister.

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The bag of marshmallows was dropped into the shopping cart before Sadie cornered an unsuspecting Jude between a display of Baked Beans and another one of Ketchup. "I found a condom wrapper in your jeans this morning. So much for dating Shay just for the public! Dirty little Jude! How was it?"

Flaming red, she gulped. "Was what? I didn't sleep with Shay!"

Sadie observed for a moment. Jude could have sworn she even sniffed at her. "But you did do it, didn't you? I can see it. You sure look guilty enough! But who— OMFG!"

"Stop with the letters, will you!" Jude shoved against Sadie, making her back away. "And hush up! Nobody can know. I won't even say it out loud." One might think she was having paranoia but last week she'd been overheard speaking about a tiff between Laura and Tommy and that had made it into a tabloid as a quote. "If anyone ever found out … can you imagine what would happen?"

"A divorce, I'd assume." She wasn't shocked anymore. Sadie had always seen something between her sister and her childhood fantasy. For her, outside her sister's emotional turmoil and Tommy's guilty conscience, it was a rather interesting situation. Almost as though she had her own private soap opera! Streaming live, no less! "Come on, spill the beans. It was a Trojan Magnum Extra Large. You can't expect me to just take that information and ignore it. It's Lit—"

Jude placed a hand on her sister's mouth. "Shut up!"

"It's Poster-On-My-Wall-Guy's Hoh-Hoh we're speaking of! Is he good?" Sadie giggled girlishly. "I bet he is! God, the things I'd do to be you right now..."

"Yes, Sadie, cause it's really _awesome_ being me right now." Jude wasn't the least happy about the situation. "He's married. And the whole world knows him. No matter what happens, nothing good will come of it. All I ever wanted was a boyfriend who is funny, understands me and shares my love for music. Was that too much to ask for?"

"Jamie was all that. You never looked at him as you look as POMW!"

"POMW?"

"Poster-On-My-Wall. Since I can't use his real name..." They resumed their shopping for groceries. "Is he in love with you, too?"

"I'm not—"

"Oh please, like you'd sleep with married man if you weren't head over heels for him! You're the good one, remember? So, is he?"

"He's … _something_. He won't let it go. It's why he's at home right now. I don't think he's in love with me. Kwest said, To– POMW wants the things he can't have. And once he has them, he loses interest. It doesn't even matter, Sadie. He won't divorce for me. And don't want him to, either. I want the feelings to go away. I wanted to quit, but he wouldn't let me."

Her sister snorted.

"Ask him, if you don't believe me!"

"I do believe you told yourself you want to quit. Jude, you're the most stubborn person I know. And if you really, _really_ wanted to leave, he'd not be in our kitchen right now. You're driving his car, carry his credit card and he's your speed dial number one. If you wanted to walk away, you had just walked away. We used to be reversed, you know? Years ago, when you were dating Shay and making music. You had your heart and you followed it everywhere. I was so jealous of you. I had my heart, but every step I took, I considered all possibilities first. I didn't make a step until I figured out all eventualities. You just walked ahead. There were times when were running so fast we all lost track of you. But then something happened and you became me, only worse. Even when you have figured out all eventualities, you still don't move. You're like – and I mean that in a very endearing way – a tic."

Jude frowned. "A tic?"

"A cute tic. You nestle and then you get comfortable. You take all you can from where you are until there's utterly nothing left. You only budge when it's absolutely necessary. But POMW, he made you walk again. You stepped out. You moved. You sang! You smiled again. That's why Jamie, or any other guy, will never be what you really want. Because they're exactly what you want. You need someone who can show you what you're missing out on. You need someone who will push you out into life and not keep you inside your nest. I know that he's married and that going for him isn't very appealing, given all the drama that would eventually come forth. But you should ask yourself if you think there's another one like POMW out there. And if there isn't, than you should be happy he didn't let you leave."

"He didn't let me go because I'm doing all his work and he's too lazy to look for a new assistant."

"Yes, Jude. That's exactly the reason he's in our kitchen right now, talking to a man he hardly knows, justifying things he probably finds completely irrelevant. All the while waiting for you to return. He could be with his beautiful, funny wife, who would most likely do anything to be in your place right now as well, but he's not. All because he's too lazy to find a new assistant."

"Are you really telling me that you want me to end a marriage?"

"He slept with you. His marriage is already over. He just doesn't know it yet." Her eyes landed on a cereal box. "Oh, Special K. I so need to lose some weight. I found this awesome bikini online, which I will buy the second I get home, and I'll pay with POMW's credit card. If he asks about it, just tell him about the condom I found. But I have to lose two pounds!"

Jude was awestruck. One moment Sadie could qualify as a kick-ass psychologist, while in the next second she was the cliché blonde with figure issues and a shopping addiction. Jude smiled as she linked her arm around her sister's. "Thanks for being on my side. You could have judged me. After everything Dad did…"

"I'm not a fan of your boss for sleeping with you. And if I were his wife, I'd cut off at least one of the things he has two of. Then again, there's a difference. POMW should have never married you-know-whom. Dad had a family and twenty years of marriage he tossed away light-heartedly." She placed two boxes of Special K into the shopping cart. "You think POMW will spring for shoes, too? Cause I just remembered seeing those really cute Pumps and…"

"We had sex more than once," Jude admitted.

"Pumps and a purse, then!" Sadie squealed. "God I love my life!"

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Tommy was exhausted. Physically as well as head-wise. Who would have thought a father could be this mistrusting. Sure, the car and the house were pretty expensive things, but Jude had needed or, well, earned both. Besides, the house came from Darius. And the car, for that matter, he'd take back one day. If she thought it was a present— "You know the car is still mine, right?" He sat in front of main door, next to Jude, who stared at him bewilderedly. "It's kind of a rental-thing."

"The Porsche? I know." She frowned. "Are you okay?"

"Your Dad should be lawyer. He can twist words like no other!" At one point he'd been accused of buying Jude's devotion. The guitar had been a present, earned for a favor. Stuart had reacted badly when he'd explained and not given a detailed description of said 'favor'. "It's scary!"

"Talking about scary…Sadie knows about, you know, and she expects to be bought. With Accessories."

He buried his face in both hands. "Okay."

"I thought about us." Tommy met her eyes quickly. "I couldn't talk before. I didn't know what talking would change. But, you were right. It can't go on the way it is now. I don't like the things you and I have done. I don't like the things you can make me do against my will. And I don't like the fact that, when you do those things, it's not against my will at all."

"You're really quitting, are you?" Unhappiness spoke from him, but also resignation. There was only so much he could do to make her stay. If she truly wanted to walk away, he was powerless. "I swear I can keep my distance. I'll do it if I have to."

"I'm not leaving."

He hadn't expected that.

Jude bit her lower lip in agony as she tried to find the right words for what she'd say next. "I'm in love with you." Despite all that had happened between them, her face still flushed a vibrant red. Out of shame, out of embarrassment for being so honest, but most importantly out of guilt for wanting someone she had no right wanting. "I told you not to get divorced for me. And I still don't want that." As this conversation was becoming more honest and raw by each passing word, Jude's emotions showed in the dampness of her eyes. "I wished I had met you before you had gone to Vegas."

"I wished that, too," he spoke softly. "I wouldn't have married her if I had met you first."

A tiny smile fleetingly crossed her face. She believed him. Maybe for no other reason than she wanted to. "But you are married. And even though I said it before and didn't act on it afterward, I won't sleep with you again as long as you're still with her. This time, I mean it. She knows how I feel."

This surprised him. "How?"

"Because I told her." She dared to meet his confused gaze. "She's really smart. She knew something was going to happen before you and I knew it. She doesn't know we did it, but … anyway, even though it's too late to say it, it's not fair to keep this up behind her back. Like I said, I'm not asking you to get a divorce for me. But you have to decide. You have to decide what you want. And if you decide to separate, then you should find better arguments than sex with me. Cause when you break up with Laura, everyone will want to know why and nobody will stop asking until every little detail is revealed. I don't know if we will even be together when all is over and done. I've read enough tabloids in my life to know how those things go. No matter what you decide – should you decide to stay with your wife, I will understand and I will not hold it against you." She took a steadying breath and rose to her feet. "So … I will see you tomorrow. At work. And please, take your time."

"What if I tell you right now that I chose you?" He jumped up, startlingly unsurprised by his own words.

"I don't want you to chose me," Jude stressed. "I want you to do what you think is the right thing to do. Do you want to stay with your wife or not, that's what you have to decide first. You married her for a reason and you didn't know me then. And you have to decide for or against continuing your marriage on the same grounds. I am at the very bottom of your list. Because if you leave her for me and this thing between us never takes off or fails and you'll realize that it's Laura you always wanted, you'll eternally blame me for ending your marriage and I couldn't deal with that."

"You came to all that on your own?"

"Sadie helped a little." She offered a parting smile. Or was it a sad one? "I'm sorry I brought all this drama into your life." Then Jude walked inside and closed the door.

That night, Tommy moved into a hotel.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 15. Villain? Or victim?

Kwest found him inside the hotel bar, perilously close to being drunk, a glass of Vodka clutched in his hand as his eyes were heavy lidded and showing of exhaustion. Tommy hadn't shown up at work for two days and from Jude he'd eventually found out what had happened. Even though she didn't know that Tommy had moved into a hotel, he'd figured that much when Laura had welcomed him in an apartment covered in expensive designer bags and fancy clothes, all paid with Quincy's money as she'd sharply informed him. "The first taste of what our divorce will cost him," she'd added before slamming the door in his face.

From there on the hardest part had been to find the right hotel. Then again, he'd begun with the most expensive one and, voila, here he was. As expected. "Finally decided to man up?" Kwest took a seat next to him and ordered his own drink. Just a water. He had to drive home, after all. "Couldn't burden the guilt of having cheated? Again?"

"You told Darius I slept with Jude?"

"Was it a lie?" Kwest felt no guilt; his mood remained light. "Can't say I'm surprised to see you here." His eyes took in the surroundings. When Tommy kept words to himself, Kwest probed further. "So, what's next? Divorce?"

"Are you here to gloat?" The producer lifted his heavy head, fought to urge to groan over the pain inside it, and tried his hardest at a glare. None came. Even the dim light was too harsh to allow more than squint. "There's no divorce. Not yet. Not – what the hell do I know!" Last week he'd been more or less happily married. Now here he was. Really, what _did _he know? He waved for the waiter, "'nother one!" When the waiter glanced at Kwest, as if waiting for permission, Tommy snapped impatiently, "I'm paying the bill. Drink. Now."

"Oh, those manners…" Sipping at his water, Kwest battled the impulse to laugh. "Self-pity. Miserable emotion. Poor you. Always so tortured by world's vengeful treatment of you. God, I'm so lucky not to be you!"

In his current mood, Tommy had no patience for either sarcasm or truths. "Seriously, Kwest. Get lost! I don't think our friendship survives you staying here!"

"Why? By the way, it's about to get interesting." He leaned back, smiled to himself and watched Tommy becoming aware of the fact that his still-wife had just walked in.

"What the fuck? How does she know where I am?" He frowned. The liquor was weighing heavily on his strength to process life around him. He looked at Kwest. "How do _you_ know where I am?" After all that trouble he'd gone through of not telling anyone, they had still found him.

"Geez, Double-O Seven. Try finding a better hideout than the fanciest hotel in town!"

His wife approached. "Well hello, scumbag. I'm here to inform you that I've taken the most expensive divorce lawyer that I could find. You'll be paying for him. For every single one of those many five-hundred dollar an hour-hours that I will meet with him to plan your downfall."

Tommy barely moved a brow. "You came all the way here to tell me that? I'm impressed. And annoyed. Go away."

"And let you drink yourself into suicide?" She sniffed at him and took a step away. "No thanks. I'd much rather take you out alive. The bartender called, telling me of a certain husband of mine that's harassing the guest and slurring curses through this…" She took a disapproving look around. "Well, clearly a decorator is needed, but never mind, I can see how you disrupt the tranquility. So," she made a _Move!_-gesture with her hand, "up to your room. Go. Up, up! Other people are beginning to take offense. I don't blame them."

Her husband was busy visually killing the bartender. "You raided me out? I could get you fired. This is supposed to be a safe place for husbands, not a pick-up station for The Unwanted. By the way," he slurred, "I don't slur. I'm not drunk. I'm…inebriated."

Laura rolled her eyes so hard for a moment Kwest thought they might pop out of their sockets. "Tossing out the big words now! Please, future ex-husband of mine, go to your room. I have credit cards to attend to. By the way," she addressed the bartender, "next time, you might want to call his little slut instead. He's having an affair, if you didn't know already."

The bartender widened his eyes. "With a wife like you?"

That caused Tommy to scoff. The fact that some jerk was flirting with his wife right in front of him wasn't new. It came to no surprise. Model wives brought that with them. It was the fact that he knew how deceiving good looks could be that made him sneer, "Puh-lease! She's not that good-looking. You should see her in the morning. Her fake extensions dangling around her face, puffy eyes, cellulite showing—"

"Son of a bitch!" Laura wished she'd brought her new Louis Vuitton XXL Shopper. If she slapped him with that, he might just stay forever scarred. The little Fendi Clutch she was currently gripping would scarcely leave a mark. "You should see _him_ in the morning, all shriveled up. The six-pack," she further informed the bartender eagerly, "is more accurately a potato bag, filled with discount pudding and fast-food!"

"Because you can't cook," Tommy retorted viciously.

"Jude probably can." She didn't need him to admit that he was sleeping with her. The second he'd informed her that he had to think of his feelings and could best do it in a hotel, all had become clear to her: Jude had something to do with that. She'd never forgive him for that. "She's still in High School after all. They do have cooking classes, don't they?"

"Leave her out of it!" Finishing his drink, Tommy turned around, facing her properly. Even though the barstool seemed dangerously high and shaky. "Why did you bother coming, anyway?"

"Told you, I was called to pick you up! You're useless when you're dead. I need you alive so my lawyer can milk you dry. And not in a good way."

"I never asked for a divorce," he felt obliged to highlight. "Just some time to think. To figure things out! You're the one spinning this into something that it's not." Then he, for the first time, saw what she was wearing. A short black silk dress with thin straps, no bra and – he took a closer look at the telltale signs on her thighs. "Are you wearing stockings?"

"Go figure. The second I'm not at your availability anymore, you're noticing stuff like that. Yes, _Dear_, I'm about to go out on a date. I won't sit at home, crying my eyes out, while you're busy screwing some teenager."

"I'm not screwing her!" At least he wasn't right now. "Do you see her anywhere? I'm here alone!" He looked around to highlight his point when, "oh God!" There she walked in, angry and unhappy.

Laura followed his gaze. "Oh look, your little whore is here!"

Kwest was wishing for popcorn. He ordered a beer instead. Screw the driving. He planned on staying!

Jude clearly wanted to be anywhere but here. She stepped closer uneasily, skipping introductions to leave as quickly as possibly again. "The reception called G-Major. You're apparently disturbing some guests. Darius then ordered me here to make sure you're not making any more bad headlines. Obviously I'm too late."

"Oh no," Laura smiled sweetly. It looked scarily genuine. "You're right on time. He just told me all about your little affair and I'm dying to hear the female version. Did you enjoy fucking my husband behind my back? Here I was admiring you for your guts to be honest when—"

Tommy was trying his hardest to multi-task: Stand up, get between Jude and Laura and make his assistant shut up and not admit that—

"It wasn't an affair! Just two—"

"Not another word!" He squashed his hand onto Jude's mouth.

Laura hit the back of his head with what turned out after all to be a remarkably useful clutch. "Son of a bitch." The anger had vanished. This time it was seething bitterness along with teary eyes and quivering lips.

"She didn't know," Tommy told Jude, who closed her eyes in, likely, shame, guilt, embarrassment, panic and a million other emotions.

For someone who'd finished half a big bottle of Russia's best Vodka Tommy felt surprisingly steady on his feet. Until he realized Kwest was holding him upwards.

"How are chances you won't sell this story to a tabloid?" The engineer met the bartender's eyes. The latter chuckled.

"I can retire over this story."

"Figured." Kwest placed an arm around Tommy's back and gave Jude a pleading look. "Could you help me get him upstairs?"

She barely nodded.

"What about me?" Laura sat on the stool Tommy had abandoned, nursed the water Kwest had left behind and wiped her tears with a napkin she hoped was a clean one. Not that anything _really_ mattered right then.

"Didn't you have a date?" The bartender was still paying attention.

"I lied." Tommy, Kwest and Jude were already out and on their way up. "Whiskey," she whispered. "Make it a strong one."

He went to work. Being the opportunist he'd always been, Henry, the bartender, leaned across the bar, lucky that no other customer was around to beat him to a call to one of the biggest tabloids around, and fished for more details to sell. "Didn't you say you knew he had an affair?"

"I knew." Laura placed Kwest's water away and replaced it with the Whiskey. A strong gulp later she was coughing. Then she drank more. "I knew. I just didn't really know. Only assumed. Guess I really am getting divorced now." Up to five minutes ago, a small part in her had still hoped for a happy ending. After all, Tommy hadn't demanded they would split. He had wanted time to think. But now? Was he dating Jude now? His assistant had confirmed they had done it. Twice. Once was a one-time thing. Twice was an affair. No matter what this stupid teenager tried to tell her! But did the name of it all matter? In the end the actions counted, and she would not, could not, forgive him again. She'd have forgiven him everything, even sex, but not with Jude. Because even though right now she couldn't explain why, the fact that he'd been with Jude, twice, made all the difference.

It really was time to call a lawyer, she concluded. She'd been lying about that as well. She had only wanted to rattle him, had wanted him to regret, to push him into a reaction. Never in a million years had she expected this outcome. Then again, somehow, she had.

"This is good Whiskey."

"The best we have," Henry agreed.

"Put it on my husband's bill."

"The one who just left with the other girl?"

"The Very."

o

o

o

The second Jude and Kwest had placed Tommy onto his bed, he was sound asleep. Kwest closed the bedroom door behind him, taking a worried glance at the girl standing at the tall window, looking out and at the city skyline.

"When will it be out?"

"The story?" He shrugged. "Tonight. Tomorrow the latest. I have to call D and let him know. He'll have a heart-attack, I'm sure."

Jude spun around. "How can you make jokes now? My life, Tommy's, Laura's, all just went up in flames. It's a giant catastrophe." Her eyes were misty. "I never meant for any of this to happen. I fell in love with the wrong guy and look what it did to all of us!"

"Why do I laugh?" Kwest patted her shoulder. "Because while it may seem like the world is about to go down, it's not. I've seen it all before. I was there when he and Portia separated. I was there when Darius was sued for tax fraud. I was there when Shay got caught with drugs the first time. I have seen so many stories that should have been the end of everything and yet, in the end, they were all just episodes in a long series of events and today, hardly anybody even remembers them. It's gonna be tough for a while. And you'll come to a point where you wish you'd never met Tommy. And he'll come to a point where he wishes he'd never met you. And Laura probably wishes she'd never met the both of you." He cracked a smile. "But it'll pass. Someday it's over, and then you wonder why you ever bothered caring." He checked his watch and took out his cell. "Really, I have to inform Darius. The bartender will be on the phone with Talk National as well. Maybe D can save something. I wouldn't count on it, though. Look, it's going to be hell for a while. I know that. And if you want to leave and hide, then you should go now. Before it's too late. Once the story breaks, you'll never make it out. I can tell Tommy that you'll call him as soon as you're ready, or whatever. He'll understand."

"I'm staying." She turned back, taking in the beautiful sunset in the far west. "I have to stay." Running and Hiding wouldn't be fair. Laura and Tommy couldn't run and hide. So what right did she have?

Kwest nodded before leaving the room to make the call.

When the door felt shut, she took out her phone and made her own call.

"Remember when you said you want to be on page one some day?" Jude closed her eyes. "There's something you need to know. Maybe you and Dad should take a long trip or something..."

o

o

o

There was a warm body next to her. How odd, she thought, considering she was in what she called _Phase One_ of what would become a very long, dirty and – for Tommy – very expensive divorce. Yet, she wasn't alone in bed.

Again, how odd.

With a pounding headache she let her head fall to its side, eyes squinting against the intruding sun. A tall figure, decidedly male and oddly smelling, was stretching inside her hand-sewn Egyptian cotton sheets. He reeked of tobacco. And liquor. On that thought she recalled yesterday's events and her life's demise. She had spent the better part of the evening drinking overpriced alcohol, on Tommy's bill of course. There had been a bartender at the bar, pleasing enough on the eyes. Dark hair. Longish. She squinted again and glanced the head's back, realizing it looked strangely alike the bartender's one. Harry was his name, or? Hans? Herbert... No, Henry!

Henry...

"Oh shit!" More information reestablished itself in Laura's head. She also remembered what she'd done with the bartender. "Fuck!"

"Again?" The male turned to his side, not bothering to cover himself. She unabashedly looked, assessing what she'd taken home. Not bad. But more than inappropriate. "We just finished. Give me a rest," he groaned.

She blinked. Because of the still rudely bright light and out of confusion. Had they...the whole night? She became aware of her own nudity and her body felt rather satisfied. For someone who was in the beginning stages of an impending divorce she felt peculiarly good! Physically, at least. Head-wise, a sense of anxiety overwhelmed.

"Did anyone see us leave together?" If it became public knowledge she'd taken advantage of a penis so quickly after her husband had moved out, it might rain on her publicity parade. She was determined to become Toronto's most pitied citizen. All for the good of her divorce. Sure, she didn't need her husband's money, but what other way was there to hurt a person that had the emotional stability of a mad cow.

Henry the one-night stand sat up, mussing his hair. "I don't think so. We left through the back. The cab driver might have recognized you, though." He looked around. "Is there a bathroom somewhere?"

"Yes." She pointed to the door.

"Thanks. Mind if I shower? I don't want to go to work smelling like, um…you."

"How considerate." She closed her eyes, deliberately not taking offense. He was nothing but a one-night mistake after all and honestly, there were more pleasant things she could imagine doing rather than walking around smelling like a sex-crazed nymphomaniac. "Go ahead. Oh, and if you need clothes to change into, there is a walk-in closet at your disposal. There's a great collection of leather jackets! Take what you want."

He blinked in surprise, but didn't reject the opportunity. "Cool, thanks!"

o

o

o

Tommy wasn't sure what exactly had happened after he'd taken a seat at the bar yesterday, but somehow it had not ended happily. He had found Jude on his couch this morning, sleeping. She was still there. He didn't know why she was there, but she looked too exhausted for him to wake her. There was a faint, foggy memory of Jude and Laura having a run-in last night, along with images of Kwest and one snotty bartender. Maybe he had seen a bad movie or something.

Or maybe the worst case scenario had become reality and his misty memories were actually faint foreshadows of the drama to come. Or he had simply drunk too much and had lost all sense for reality and was still suffering from that. At any rate, the only way to find out was finding Kwest.

"Morning."

He blinked at the guy greeting him. Wasn't that the bartender? His head pounded heavily. As he took a closer look at the man passing by, trying to get his memories in order, as his eyes landed on the other man's distinct outfit: How could a bartender afford himself a leather jacket like that? Tommy knew what it was worth. He had one like that. It was a one of ta kind and— wait! One of a kind meant there was only one, right? And if he had one then how...? And why...?

Tommy spun around. "Is that my jacket?" There was rarely a time he felt more stupid. Was he actually asking some cocktail-shaking guy about his jacket?

"Yep." The bartender grinned and flipped the collar with one hand, showing off. "Very generous wife you have! I'm late for work." With that he left Tommy dumbstruck.

o

o

o

"Open the door you crazy generous psychotic—" Tommy's fists stopped mid-air knocking on his _own_ apartment's heavy wooden door when it flew open.

Laura was wearing nothing but a bed-sheet. "Generous?" She glared at him. "You're aware that's not a mean word, right?" She had gone back to sleep, trying to forget everything and just get some rest. It hadn't worked. Her cheating ass of a still-husband was playing the _Husband Scorned_. "Try better next time, will you?"

"Generous is a mean word when you're concerned." He marched into what he considered rightfully his. Divorce be damned, he'd not let her keep this place. He loved his apartment and the second she was gone, he'd paint it gray all over again! It would be as gray as it could possibly be, simply because she hated that color! "What the hell are you doing handing out my stuff. I paid half a car for that jacket. Who else is wearing my clothes? Did you have a yard sale of Tommy Q's Best?" Not waiting for her to answer, or follow him, he headed for his closet. "What else is missing? Shoes? Underwear?" After some uncoordinated rummaging he glanced over his shoulder, finding her smugly grinning. "God, you didn't give away my hair products, did you?!"

"No, Tom, your slimy hair gel is still untouched. Nobody wanted it. How did you sleep, by the way? Did you enjoy screwing Jude, now that I'm out of the picture? Or was it all, _Ow, ow, the guilt, please go harder, it hurts so bad!_"

He took a stand in the bathroom door, observing the bedroom, the tousled sheets and the cheap boxer shorts dangling from the ceiling fan. That answered the question of how the little punk had gotten his hands on his favorite jacket! "I didn't sleep with Jude!" God, he hoped he hadn't. It must have been awful if he had and couldn't remember. Crossing his arms, he cocked his head. "How was your night?" He attempted his own impression of Laura. "_Oh yes, do me harder! I'll fuck every dick I get just to spite my ex! Ugh. Ugh._"

"Better than the, _Oooh, that feels so nice. Please Tommy, make love to me in the dark!,_ that you get to hear from your little Miss Innocence! In for a bet? How long do _you_ think she can satisfy you? A week? Less?"

"Why? Are you planning on taking me back afterwards?"

She tossed a shoe at him. "Bastard!"

He ducked briefly, pressed his back against the doorframe and sighed exasperatedly.

Laura sat down on the bed, just as beat. With a voice surprisingly raw, she whispered, "You slept with her?" Her voice was barely audible. With all the rage out of her system, there was nothing left but hurt and grief over her lost love. "I want to hate you. I want to despise you so badly. But every time I try I only hate myself. I hate myself for giving you a second chance. I despise myself for believing you when you said 'I do' to me. I feel stupid for putting myself into this position. I saw it coming. Even when we stood in front of the Elvis-priest in Vegas, I doubted it would work. But I still said 'I do'. I keep wondering why I was with you. You didn't love me. I knew. I couldn't have been that naive not knowing." Could I? she asked inwardly. She hardly expected an answer from him but she wanted him to know how confused and lost she felt.

"I meant the 'I do' when I said it."

She didn't believe him. "Please!"

But he shook his head. "I really did. But then Jude came along and—"

"And all was forgotten?"

The tears dwelling up in her eyes brought forth sympathy. Would she believe him if he spoke of how he really felt? Would she laugh or cry if he said that he was angry that she had slept with another man? Having cheated first, he knew he had no right at all to feel that way, but as confusing as it was he did. He was jealous. He was hurt. He didn't like that another man had spent the night touching his wife in all the intimate places. It irked him, in lack for a better emotion, that she'd done it in their bed. It bothered him that she didn't wait for the very end. He had moved out. They hadn't officially separated. And yes, damn it, while he might not love her the way he was supposed to, he still felt something for her. "Laura…"

His wife shook her head stubbornly. "When you say my name like that it always means you don't know what else to say. But you feel badly and guilty and so you want me to forgive you for whatever you've done." She looked up at him. "That's not going to happen this time. You won't get my forgiveness. I will not tell you that it's okay what happened! And I'm not going to take you back simply because you're too damn scared to figure out how you really feel! And now get the hell out!"

"This is my place," he reminded her. His pity only went so far.

She forced out a smile, bitter though it was. "Let the judge decide that. See you in court!"

When he was finally gone, albeit reluctantly, she collapsed onto the floor, crying. Of all the things he'd done wrong, the fact that he didn't even apologize hurt the most.

o

o

o

By the time Tommy entered G-Major, all memories had returned and as ashamed as he was, he kept his head down, ignored every other person greeting him as he walked by and marched straight up into D's office where a red-eyed, caffeine-hyped, normally very easy-going secretary was cowering in the guest chair, furiously typing something on her tablet PC. Meanwhile Darius, who was wearing his best silk suit, with his head polished, his eyes ready and awake and his demeanor impressive as always, looked condescendingly at her. "I was born for this kind of publicity," he informed Tommy, then glanced at his secretary. "Not all can keep up."

The exhausted woman hardly reacted. "I finished with the statement," she muttered. "Can I go home now? Please!"

"By all means," Darius agreed. "Obviously you're in no condition to help me." They watched the woman carry herself out. Then Tommy closed the door behind her.

"What statement? What's the game-plan for this?"

"How about, _'You know what, Big D? For all the trouble I caused you, I will gladly forego my pay check.'_ That'd be a start, I say." His behavior was hostile. Tommy had expected that. "Or a simple apology would be a start. Let's take it easy. Just say, _'I'm sorry.'_ And make it genuine!"

"Sorry for what?" Tommy crossed his arms as he sat down. "Bringing you the story of the year? Didn't you tell me that good stories bring lots of revenue? Or does that only work for the stories you come up with?"

"Good story?" Darius snorted. "You've single-handedly become the most hated man in the country! What the hell were you thinking fucking a teenager?" In time like these, Big D forgot pleasantries. "And then you are this damn stupid and make a public announcement out of it? For God's sake, Tom, didn't you learn anything from your last divorce?"

"I learned that for the greater money you gladly tossed your sister into the dirt. So, what's the game-plan?" He asked again, lacking patience.

"I want to fire you," Darius stated coldly. "I want to kick you out of this building, out of the country and make sure never having to deal with you again. That's my idea. But since you'd only kiss my feet for that, this will work differently. I have to invest and put up with a lot over the coming days. So here's the game-plan: Sign this." He handed him a contract. "Two years, exclusive producing for me."

"My contract is up for renegotiation soon. I want out. I want to leave." He had a lawyer already working on that. "I'm not signing again."

"I figured that much." He handed over another sheet of paper. "This is a version of events personally written by me. It blames everything on Jude. I will make her the villain in this story. One of _epic_ proportions. She came here to seduce you, to sleep her way up, to do everything it takes for a record deal."

Tommy skimmed the paper and seethed. "There's a phone number on the bottom. And Charles Henley's e-mail address."

"Didn't you know? He and Jude obviously have a past. Portia filled me in. He'll add some comments to highlight my version. Also, Portia mentioned pictures."

"I don't fucking believe this! Do you have any idea what this will do to Jude? She will be Canada's most hated woman when this is over!"

"Or another victim, if you sign on the dotted line. What's two more years, Tom? Consider it another marriage. It'll end eventually."

He grabbed the pen. "When this is all over, I will make you pay for this!"

"I'm counting the moments."

o


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 16. It was only sex.

The pain in her lungs was almost too much to bear. It stung. With every single breath it hurt more and when she breathed out, she was left with a distinct feeling of emptiness that was almost more painful than taking a breath all over again. Clutching her heart and bending over, while sitting on the uncomfortable couch in Tommy's fancy hotel suite, she had a vague idea of what the first steps of death must feel like.

Exactly like this.

In front of her, few feet away, on a small table, rested Tommy's notebook, streaming in Living Color and Dolby Digital a video of Laura and Tommy, taken by some hotel clerk on the day of their Vegas wedding months ago. Dubbed it was by some young woman's voice informing the world about the news of their impending divorce, his very recently uncovered infidelity and, of course, of her.

Of a girl, about eighteen years old, named Jude Harrison. Her job description: Personal Assistant. The woman giggled, added that the word 'Assistant' in this Biz had always been paired with dubious responsibilities. While this little clip was airing, on the net as well as on TV's most notorious gossip channel, Jude realized not for the first time but never more clearly that nobody connected with that news report about her, Tommy and Laura actually cared what they were doing to those directly involved.

What would happen to her father? Jude wondered, gripping her heart harder as nausea overcame her. She had visited him often and his colleagues knew her face and, of course, her name. Now they knew that she had slept with a married man and apparently had done so for money and fame. That's after all what the Net and every other gossip outlet were spreading around. And gossip is never false!

Sadie knew the truth. But did it matter? Would anyone believe her when she'd defend her sister, which she was undoubtedly doing right now? It was a little after eleven am and she was having a class in sociology as of this moment. She'd mentioned some stuck-up girls being there, with supposedly high moral values. What would they be saying right now, about Sadie Harrison's slutty sister that didn't care about the sacredness of a marriage?

Jude closed her eyes tightly. Then she slammed the lid of the notebook shut, not caring if she broke it in the process. "Damnit!" she yelled, angry at herself. She'd hit herself but in lack of courage she threw a decorative cushion against the exquisite silk tapestry across her. "Fuck!" She yelled again.

How had all this happened? How could one man have made her become this person? She had been so sure of her stand when Laura had confronted her. "Never," she'd practically sworn. Never with a married man! After everything her family had been through after her father's affair! After her own experiences with a cheater! Now she was one of _Them_. That shameful group of people that only acted selfishly and behaved as if nothing else mattered. Nothing else had mattered when she'd slept with Tommy. Not the first time and not the second time. But she'd been the only person thinking that way. Maybe Tommy, too. Everyone else had not stopped existing just because she had not thought of them in just that second. Laura had not stopped loving Tommy only because he had stopped being faithful to her.

And now his wife was sad and broken hearted. Hurt and pained. Because of what she, Jude Harrison, had done. The world had every right to blame every tear Laura cried on her. They had every right to paint her the devil.

But, and she tossed yet another pillow, they had no right to bring her family into this. The thought of her father and sister suffering because of her own stupidity was bringing forth yet another panic attack.

"What the hell?!"

Jude opened her eyes, squinting against the pain in her chest, finding Tommy crouching down in front of her, looking worried.

His eyes were wide, nervous. Scared. "What's going on? Do you need a doctor?"

Shaking her head faintly, she fought against the urge to breath harder and faster. Her lungs wanted more air. None seemed to be there anymore. It went dark again.

When she opened them again she was breathing into a small paper bag. Minutes passed before she finally calmed down enough to answer the million and one questions he'd been asking her ever since arriving.

"What's wrong?" Seemed to be the most pressing one.

"The story broke. Everyone knows." She motioned for the notebook on the table in front of her. Tears were dwelling up in her eyes and sometime between starting to calm down and beginning to explain, his hand had found hers. She was squeezing it deftly. "I'm scared what this will do to my dad and to Sadie. They've never been in this kind of situation."

"They will handle," he soothed, gently stroking her damp cheek. "Nobody that matters will doubt your integrity."

"What integrity?" she snapped back, suddenly pulling back her hand. Her eyes were furious as she rose to her feet, desperately needing to move, to do something, _anything_. "I'm the other woman. I don't have any integrity left. I am the reason your wife is heartbroken. It doesn't matter that you're her husband! I was on the cheated site once. I know how it feels! I had sex with you and I had no right to do so!"

"The first time we were drunk," he tried to apologize, almost bothered, when Jude viciously scowled at him.

"Oh no." She shook her head. "That's no excuse! I wasn't drunk before, when we…looked at each other. I wasn't drunk the second time. I wasn't drunk when I—" Jude stopped to breathe. "Being drunk is NO excuse for what I did."

"WE did," he stressed. "You and I both acted foolishly."

"Foolishly." Jude sighed as she came to a halt with her back against the wall. She reclined, powerless. Her head lolled backwards. "Foolishly," she said once more in disbelief. "You make it sound so…trivial. So little. Maybe that's what it is to you. To me, this is _everything_. It is gigantic. A catastrophe of _epic_ proportions. And…" Jude haltered to start anew. To explain herself better. To make him understand. "This is the point where I don't know where to go or what to do. I didn't even pause when it happened. I _knew_ what would happen. I _knew_ the consequences. I – you don't understand and I don't know how to make you!" She could see it in his features. He'd rather be anywhere but here. "I was selfish. I haven't been selfish since that night two years ago. And even back then, it was just me." Her hands were making the oddest gestures as she was struggling to find the right words. "I am the reason another woman is heartbroken. I made another person cry! And not just that. I am sure my dad has to defend me, his daughter who screwed a married man and who has no right at all to be defended! This is just so much bigger than I had imagined. I knew the consequences but I ignored them and now it has become this huge thing that it so…so…messed up! I was selfish and I lost control and," she was becoming dizzy again, "and…I don't know where to go from here. What am I supposed to do now? I can't go to G-Major. Everyone there knows. I can't go to school, because everyone there knows too and I can't go _anywhere_ because EVERYONE knows what I did and I can't do or say anything about it because I have no right to! Do you understand why 'foolishly' doesn't quite sum it up?!"

"Darius will take care of it all. He promised me earlier. I renewed my contract and in exchange he'll make sure to present you as the victim. I handled it!"

She scoffed tiredly.

"He'll help," Tommy assured with more force than he'd meant. Why didn't she understand it? "He better," he added, "after all, he got me to sign this fucking contract," Tommy vented, taking his own turn walking up and down the hotel room. "All because of some sex—" Words died on his lips. "I didn't—"

"Yes you did!" Jude finished for him. "Are you trying to make me feel better? Hey, Jude, here's yet another thing to blame yourself for! Thanks to you I'm stuck with D some more years. _All because of some sex!_" She walked into the bedroom to get her jacket. He followed her desultorily, but she brushed passed him towards the door angrily. "That's exactly why you and I don't see eye to eye on this! _Some sex_ to you is a _life-changing moment_ to me! Some sex," Jude said once again. "To you, it's just another day, isn't it? Some bad headlines, another divorce – what's the matter, right? Nothing new. Thanks for handling it, by the way. Guess I owe you one."

"That's not why I did it!" He snapped back.

"Why the hell did you tell me, then?" Jude yelled on her way out, slamming the door shut behind her.

o

o

o

Laura was rummaging inside her Satchel, looking for her car key. Damn those oversized, wildly fashionable big bags! How was one supposed to find stuff in it? The designers might want to consider building in a light or something! Ah, there! Finally! She pulled the pesky little item out and was about to press the Unlock-button when she found Jude cowering in the hotel parking lot underneath a 'NO SMOKING' sign, seemingly waiting for someone.

She immediately haltered. It had been a foreseeable chance to run into her here, but she had found it a more pressing matter to get a reassurance of silence from the sexually talented bartender about their shared intimate encounter. Under no condition could he tell anyone. It'd only weaken her position during her upcoming divorce. Tommy may know but she could handle him. She could not handle bad publicity.

Suddenly Jude looked up and Laura wasn't quick enough to look away and they were then stuck in a very awkward moment of mutual irritation. What now? What were the social rules for a meeting between _The Affair_ and _The Wife_? Surely there had to be some sort of rule-set! Were they to ignore each other? Or converse politely? That seemed to be absurd.

"I'm sorry." Jude blurted into the startlingly silent and empty parking lot. Underneath the hotel, in the semi dark with no walls to separate and only few cars around, Jude's voice was too loud to be overheard. Laura took a moment before nodding timidly, thereby at last acknowledging she'd heard the girl.

"At least one of you has the decency to actually say it." Looking over her shoulder, spotting her car barely fifteen feet away, she pondered making a dash for it to leave this lot and to avoid more talking. But for some reason she couldn't go. An opportunity had presented itself and Laura decided to use it. "If you expect my forgiveness however—"

"No! God no."

Surprised, Laura wondered, "Pity, then? Poor little teenager, unjustly treated by the press, simply for falling for the wrong guy?"

A weird kind of smile flashed Jude's face. "No. I don't want anything. I certainly don't expect anything."

"Wise girl, I'd say. But then again, you made the mistake of going for my husband. Shocking as it may come, here is some friendly advise: Never trust him. Never. He will not be faithful. But you already know that, don't you?"

Jude lowered her head in guilt.

For some reason Laura had a hard time walking away. There was something remarkably fascinating about Jude. Laura actually did believe what she'd said earlier: Poor little girl for falling for the wrong guy. With eighteen, barely experienced, she had stood no chance against her husband. Sure, she was angry and hurt over Jude's actions. Stupid girl for letting it happen! But then, stupid Laura, too! She was wiser, knew Tommy better than anyone. She should have seen it coming and in a way she had. Yet, just like Jude, she'd let it happen.

"This isn't the outcome you wanted," Laura summed up, keeping her eyes on Jude, who looked up stupefied.

"No."

"We have another thing in common, then."

A heavy paused carried on over the new few moments.

Then Jude spoke up again. "He doesn't…" Only to halter when she realized that she was talking to the woman whose husband she'd slept with. And she was about to talk about said husband with that woman. Waiting just one more second to give Laura a chance to walk away, she finished carefully when her across remained and waited for the rest of her words. "He doesn't…_care_. For what happened. This isn't just about you, Tommy and me." The immensity of the situation she found herself in was simply too overwhelming for her. "All those people are involved somehow. There's Kwest, who is trying to help him. There's Darius. And Shay. There's my family and your family. And I don't even know if he has family. There are lawyers and reporters and… There are just so many people involved and he doesn't understand it. The _gravity_ of what we've done."

"Yeah," Laura breathed, not certain what to say to that. Should she give Jude a genuine advice? Could she be that big of a person? To help the girl that had effectively caused her marriage to end?

No, she decided firmly, spinning around to head for her car, when she saw the reflection of Jude in another car's windshield. That girl, so lost and overcome, suddenly reminded her of herself, years ago. And so she sighed heavily. And stopped. "He does understand the impact of his actions." She kept her eyes deliberately adverted. "He doesn't understand why he should care." Closing her eyes, suppressing the tears threatening to fall any moment now, she was taken aback by her own words when she added, "you care. That's why all of this happened." With that she walked away.

o

o

o

"How much did you win?" Tommy sat behind the soundboard, next to Kwest, while listening to Shay not rapping but rambling to someone on the phone. The topic – What else could it be! – was his affair with Jude. Shay was doing his best getting a momentum out of being the cheated when usually he was the bad guy. Switching the sound off, Tommy swiveled around to face the person he wasn't so sure still was a friend. "You bet on the week after my birthday, right? I overheard that much the other day."

"Look," Kwest spoke somewhat apologetically, "I know what I did was shit. But come on, are you seriously telling me that, when you married Laura, you expected it to last? Honestly? Cause there's a reason everybody was betting against you!"

"And what reason is that?" Tommy wondered, sincerely interested to know. He'd been asking himself the exact same thing ever since finding out about the betting pool. "I'm a sex-addicted pathological cheater? I cheated three times. I cheated on Portia, which I actually believe served her right!" He didn't tell Kwest about Jude's past with her. "And I cheated on Laura, twice. That I do regret, cause she didn't deserve what I did to her. I do know I messed up! But I don't get that nobody believes I can be a faithful husband."

"Even you didn't believe you could be faithful, which, if I may remind you, is why you hired Jude in the first place!"

He hadn't forgotten that. But when Jude had begun believing in his abilities as a good husband, somehow he had as well. He rested his head against his flat palm, pressing his forehead into it. A heavy growl vibrated from his throat.

Kwest almost pitied him. Almost. "Six months ago, you'd have joined in. On the betting," he added.

Six months ago, he was a different person. Six months ago, there was no Jude. Six months ago, there wasn't a single reason why…why what? Why did it matter, all of sudden? Why did he care for Laura, although he'd made it more than clear he didn't love her? Why did it matter what everyone thought of him? Why did it matter that Jude was mad at him? Why, for God's sake, did it matter that she cared for the mess that had developed and why did it matter to her that he found everything they had done was being overrated? "Something changed."

"Clearly!"

"I don't know _what_ changed. Just…things are different now. Things…_matter_!" For some reason, it had become important to him how other people saw him. After all those years he'd spent trying not to care, suddenly he did just that.

For a while Kwest simply watched him until eventually, he smiled in awe. Had it actually happened? Had the unattainable Tommy Q finally met his match?

Before he could ask, Jude entered. Tommy, upon noticing, practically fell out of his chair in an attempt to straighten up immediately. "Jude!"

"Since I'm not allowed to quit, I might as well do some work." She became insecure when both men gave her a wary once-over. Until she realized why they were put off. Her hand went to her head, tugging on the deep black shawl she'd wrapped around it. Stupid as it may look, it kept people from recognizing her on the street. Not that it kept anyone from staring at her! Apparently there was a good and a bad side to everything she did these days. "I, um… I'll be in your office, if you don't mind."

Almost clumsily nodding, Tommy seemed to have choked his tongue.

When Jude had left, Kwest broke into laughter.

"What's so damn funny?"

"You wouldn't understand."

o

o

o

"How about a date?"

Jude looked up from her notes. Dozens of interview requests for Tommy, Laura and, of course, her. Eyes wide, she was sure her mouth stood agape as well. "A what?"

"A date." Tommy sat down across from her. "I'm single now." He gave a boyish smile. "Might as well take advantage of it! Everyone knows about you and me. What's the big deal?"

Well, what was the big deal indeed? He made it sound so simple. So utterly nonchalant. Two people, going on a date. "I don't know, Tommy – maybe the whole Affair-thing should give us a pause. Maybe we should take a break with 'us', whatever defines as such! You're not even divorced yet. You haven't even FILED for divorce, yet!"

"We don't have to hit the biggest restaurant in town," he intervened. "How about dinner at my place. I'll order in, if that's makes it any less _big_. Come on, we always got along great. The sex is awesome. You said you have feelings for me. I have some feelings for you as well. Seriously, Jude. Let's date. Let's try this!"

She just couldn't understand his position. His carefree attitude towards this. "Some feelings."

"Don't repeat everything I say."

"I didn't. I'm just trying to make sense of what you're saying!"

He snorted. "No, you, like, scan my syllables for stuff to use against me."

"First you ask me out, now you're breaking off a fight?"

"Case in point."

"I'm in no mood to date right now," she snidely remarked. "Shared place or not, you're still married. And no matter where I go, a dozen photographers follow me there. What the hell do you think will happen if they see us entering your apartment?!"

"I don't give a damn!"

"I do!" And it angered her that he didn't see that.

He leaned back, halting his reply until his momentary irritation had diminished. Dear God, if she kept acting this way! "They will probably follow you around for the rest of the year and then some! Better get used to it and move on. You're hungry, I'm hungry, let's share a meal. And if something should happen afterward, what's against letting it happen?"

"You're getting divorced."

"My point."

"No, I mean," she sighed as she shook her head tiredly. This conversation was tedious. "I mean…you're getting divorced. You should be grieving for the end of your marriage." He had married Laura! She didn't understand his behavior! How could he care so little for the life he was about to lose? He had paid a whole lot of time and energy in maintaining the happiness of his wife and suddenly all that was forgotten? New day, new girl? "Tommy…why aren't you – I don't know, like, _anything_ other than what you are right now?"

"I don't dwell on the past," he clipped, more and more bothered by how she was acting. "I move on. Which you should do as well!" He had to accept that Laura wanted a divorce. Why should he be sad about that? He'd caused it. He had screwed up again. Why make a big deal of it? It wasn't the first time and it certainly wouldn't be the last time. He'd come to accept that as his life and so he enjoyed the moments in between trouble. "I miss the old Jude. The flirty girl with the clumsy feet and her fierce exterior."

"That girl vanished along with my virginity, Tommy. Life isn't what it was a month ago. Life is different now. I'm different."

"And, honestly, I'm tired. I'm also hungry and I'm going out, now. You want to come?"

"No," she said, quite possibly for the tenth time.

"Whatever!"

o

o

o

Her blonde curl danced around her finger as she twirled it while cheekily smiling at him. "I read about your divorce. It's a shame. I'd never let you go on my free will." The woman, nameless, one of many he'd sat across from tonight, bit her lip suggestively. "Actually, if I had my will, I'd take you home with me right now…" The words were followed by a long, heavy silence in which he had to decide to either follow her and screw her, something he frankly would really like to do right now, just to relief some pressure, or to politely decline the offer and keep a chance of someday having a date with Jude.

That _someday_ however seemed to be far, far away.

"I'm wearing eatable underwear," she hushed, offering him a chance to catch a glimpse of her bra as she dipped her fingertip between the valley of her breasts, clearly to direct his gaze there.

A smile, a heavy grin, shot to his face. Damn how he missed flirting with women. Light words, sexual undertones, the promise of something sweet to come. Although she did make it awfully easy to take advantage of.

Then he noticed the unmistakable flicker of a flash going up. Fuck! Some paparazzo had found him. He could already imagine the devil they'd make him out to be. Oh those glorious tabloids. You can't become famous without them and yet, you can't live normally with them. Shit! How would Jude react to that? Would she believe him when he'd tell her that all he did was talk? He had hardly flirted back. He'd been flirted _at_. Did that make a difference? Probably not.

"I have to go," he sighed, barely caring to give his goodbyes to that chick across him. Tossing two ten dollar bills onto the counter, he grabbed his jacket. "Eatable underwear," he added on a parting note, "that's really cheap. You should go for some class, instead!"

She sniffed haughtily, obviously having envisioned a different ending. Well, so had he.

o

o

o

A little tipsy but not nearly drunk Tommy knocked on Jude's door a little after midnight, no doubt the paparazzo that had found him at the bar on his tails. "JUDE!" When, after repeated use of the doorbell still nobody answered, he yelled again. "JUDE OPEN UP!"

She did eventually. Grumpy and in her PJs. "What could you possibly want right now?" She didn't invite him in.

Just as well, Tommy thought, and leaned against the door-frame. "I was at a bar. I drank. And I was flirting with a woman and while she was making me an offer I had some troubles refusing right away, though I eventually did, it got caught on camera. Oh, and, I lost my cell in the cab that just dropped me off, so it would be really nice if you could call me another one."

"Why didn't you tell the cab to wait?"

"I…" He had no answer to that. "I'm sorry about the girl in the bar."

"Tommy." Truth be told, it did hurt to know he had flirted. But, in the greater scheme of things, he was single and, well, married. Did she, _The Affair_, really have a right to be jealous? She, _The Affair_, who hadn't been intimate with him in a while. She, who had told him that right now she didn't have the head or the stomach to date him. "What do you want from me?"

He shrugged, a sleepy smile flickering on his face. "I don't know. But I felt I should tell you before you found out from the tabloids." His droopy gaze lingered on her. "I miss you."

"Me, or sex with me?"

"Why do you keep doing that?"

He didn't have to be precise for her to know what he meant. Dipping her head downwards, Jude exhaled for a long, significant moment. "I don't know." Her voice was raw, as was her expression. "It just comes naturally. Why did you flirt with that woman?"

Now it was his turn to be honest. "I'm not good at grieving for something." He remembered her earlier words. "I don't like when things become complicated. My whole life is chaotic enough as it is. What's done is done. I want something else. Something easy. I want what we used to have, before we had sex."

"When you and Laura went to Vegas, before the wedding, was it easy? Was it light and fun?" Her voice was barely audible. She was afraid to ask, scared of what his answer might be. Worried that she was at the brink of finding out why they had happened and why they were now failing.

He seemed to realize it as well. Instead of answering, he nodded slowly. "But with you," Tommy persisted, "it's still different. I can't explain it."

She tugged her shirt closer together, to warm herself. "How is it different? It gets complicated and you pull away. When it was complicated with Laura, you and I found a way to have fun instead." Suddenly it made so much sense. "You spent time with me when it was stressful with her. And now that it's complicated with me as well, you go and flirt with the next best woman. _How_ is it different?"

"Because I'm falling in love with you."

He hadn't meant to tell her. He hadn't even known it until the moment the words blurped out of his mouth. But now that he had said them out loud, all began to make sense to him. All but Jude's reaction.

She shut the door in his face.

o

o

o


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 17. Meow!

"You know," Tommy hissed as he sat down next to his lawyer, addressing Laura, who sat across from him in a separation/mediation meeting, "it's scary how quickly you can turn on tears! You fucked a bartender, handed out my stuff and yet make it sound as though I am the personification of evil. Did it ever occur to you that maybe you're to blame as well? If just for a little part?"

"How so?" She took off her oversized sunglasses slowly, letting herself not get rattled by his attitude. Without the glasses, her pale, reddish eyes became visible. Clearly she'd used make-up to look this sad and tired, Tommy fretted inwardly. Wondering, "Did I push you into Jude's spread-open legs?" Laura leaned forward, one hand on the table. "Was this whole business of having sex merely a misunderstanding of some sorts? Did you, after all, never fornicate with her, but just _sleep_ with her? Tell me now, Tom. I'm dying to know how I was at fault here!"

Her lawyer, an unassuming, slightly disgruntled looking little bold man with a stained tie whispered something to her after which she put the sunglasses back on and leaned back. Then he took over. "Mr. DuTois, or is it Mr. Quincy?"

"DuTois, when the business is official."

"Mr. _DuTois_." He put up effort to make the French word sound as thickly as possibly. Tommy ground his teeth. "If you would be so kind and admit just once for the record that you had sexual intercourse with your assistant, a Ms. …" He flipped through the papers in front of him. "A Ms. Jude Harrison."

Staring straight into Laura's eyes, hidden behind fake black glass, he crossed his arms smugly. "We fucked. On only two occasions, though not for a lack of trying from my side."

Now his own lawyer kicked in, leaning forward, speaking to the other lawyer about terms neither he nor Laura understood. Tommy kept talking to his wife instead, who was visibly agitated. "We could have just parted ways on mutual grounds, split even and be over with this. And if you had listened to your mailbox just once, you'd have heard me apologizing to you! For everything!"

"Oh you mean this drunken ramble from last week? Yes, Tom, I heard that. It was indeed quite a story you were telling. Poor you for falling in love with Jude. Poor Jude for falling in love with you. Poor the both of you for failing to act the right way. Your apology consisted of two slurred syllables barely audible before being cut off: Sor-ry. How touching," she snapped, "that after everything I did to make this marriage work, all you could bring yourself to do was slur a word that hardly counts for regret! And now this. You smug bastard. 'We fucked.' That's one class-act reaction, I have to tell you! Did you come up with this all by yourself or did the devil himself help you form that response?"

"Oh come on, you screwed the bartender hours after I moved out!"

"I was hurt and drunk and I wanted to get back at you! What's your excuse for screwing Jude? And don't you dare say you simply fell in love with her. That's not enough! That's not a good reason to cheat. Again!"

"There is no good reason to cheat, Laura. Things just happened!"

"Mr. DuTois," Laura's lawyer interrupted him, again with a thick fake french accent when saying his name, "if you could admit on record that you don't own any real estate properties, but rent."

Tommy, before answering, took a second to discuss this with his lawyer, then admitted, "I own a property in the industrial area, bought a couple of years ago."

"What?" Laura stared at him in shock. "What's in this building? Your secret love shack? Instead of hotels with their telltale butlers you bought a whole building to screw around in?"

"It isn't like that," he stated fiercely. "I store some instruments there. I go there sometimes…to play."

"Play as in having sex, I presume."

"No, play as in making music!"

Laura couldn't form a response to that.

Tommy sighed. "Are you really mad at me because somewhere in Toronto is a building where I play piano?"

"No," Laura bit out, "I'm mad at you because somewhere in Toronto is a whole building, a gigantic part of your life if you will, that you completely kept from me. I was your wife! Damnit, I AM your wife! Why the hell did you never tell me that you still make music?"

"Because it wasn't your business."

As the lawyers began conversing again, Laura's face became exponentially sadder and for the first time Tommy wondered if the reddish eyes and the paleness weren't real after all, and not just make-up to influence the lawyers. "That," she almost whispered, suddenly feeling a whole lot less confused, "is why our marriage failed, in a nutshell! Your life wasn't my business." Somberly, with the calmness and fragility of a woman who had just figured out that she was never meant be anything else than a waste of time, Laura watched him. "Just tell me one thing: Does Jude know about the place?"

When he took his time to reply, she had all the answers she needed.

**xxx**

He needed an assistant. A different one. One that he could ask to keep an eye on his wife. After this morning's colossal disaster of a separation/mediation-meeting, he had for the first time realized just how much he had hurt his wife, not just by cheating, but even more by the way he'd been acting ever since he met her. He'd treated her as an accessory with no other purpose than to be there when he needed it. And while it might be too late, he wanted to let her know that he did care for her and actually was sorry for all that had happened. Genuinely, this time! Christ, he wasn't a monster! He was a human being and, though fiercely self-absorbed, he did on occasion become aware of his reckless and unforgivable behavior. He hadn't married her because he was bored. There had been some sort of connection with her and she'd been there for him many times and no, damnit, she didn't deserve what he had done to her!

He wanted to arrange a meeting with Laura. He wanted someone to oversee his divorce. To keep track of all the meetings with his divorce lawyer and whatever else there was a divorce included. He wanted someone to tell him when he was being an asshole. Someone that made sure he behaved human when his patience left him and he himself couldn't assure that anymore. He wanted Jude.

And yet he knew that he couldn't ask Jude to be that assistant because that person would also have to take care of Jude and find out what she needed to hear to in order for them to find a way back to each other. He was indeed falling in love with her. And this time, more than ever, he wanted it to be a mutual, successful thing!

Despite all the odds.

He really needed an assistant.

"Knock, knock," Sadie chimed as she entered his office without waiting to be invited in. "Listen, I heard about last week's 'I'm falling in love with you' –disaster and thought I might be able to help you out."

"Aren't I the enemy or something? Shouldn't you be siding with Jude?"

Sadie pondered this for a second before shrugging. "Nah, she'll understand. It's all for the greater good. She's in love with you and you, all but romantically, told her that you're falling for her as well. Now we just have to find a way to bring you two together."

He smiled lazily. "What's in it for you?"

Giving a sheepish grin, she innocently asked, "why would you say that?"

One pointed look from Tommy and Sadie rolled her eyes. "Fine, there's a bit of a hook that comes with it. But before you say 'no' to it, hear me out. Jude is unhappy, moping, grumpy and playing Nirvana non-stop. So, in order to keep my sanity, I need Jude to be happy again. Dad has completely sided with her and plays the worst and the saddest of his Oldie collection to support her, though the good of it escapes me. Plus, there's this really, really chic new purse that EVERY girl in my sociology class wants to have but you're the only one I know who actually has the credit cards to afford it. So? I help you and get the purse in return? Deal?" She wiggled her brows encouragingly.

"How much is the purse?"

"Two thousand dollars."

"That's one month's salary for Jude." He had an idea…

**xxx**

"Mr. Harrison," The school secretary said, "the principal is held up in an important meeting. You'll have to wait a few more minutes."

Jude nodded. Leaning back with crossed legs, she had nothing better to do anyway. She might as well use the time to figure out how to explain why she'd been late for school the third time in a row and probably the seventh time since the news of her and Tommy had broken. Should she tell the truth? Would the principal care, or even believe her, when she said that she was haunted by paparazzi who considered her fair game? Or would he not care at all that the reason she was late all the time was that she had to drive circles around town in order to get rid of them?

"Oh look who's here!"

Gazing up, Jude couldn't be more unnerved to find Sharon Helms standing there, next to her two friends. She was the girl who'd been quoted in some tabloids, calling Jude a bad student and an opportunist. Also she'd said that it was no surprise she'd slept with Tommy, while dating Shay – which she didn't know was only for show – because it fit her sleazy character. With classmates like that, who needs enemies?! "You need something? Or are you just bored and figured, why not bother me!"

"Please!" Sharon smirked at her friends. "We just saw the new National Inquirer. They are so right. You really are getting fat. Guess that's the reason you're always late for school. If I had to drag all that weight out of the bed I would need an eternity as well! No, actually, I wouldn't show up at all. I'd be too embarrassed. But, we all know you're not ashamed of anything …"

There used to be a time when she'd have fought back, but right here, right now, Jude was too tired. And what for? Whatever she did, it would only wind up being another headline anyway. So she just kept quiet, waited for Sharon and her friends to get bored and for this day to end already.

Eventually, the principal ended his meeting and at the end, she got detention for one week.

**xxx**

"Who are you?" Portia didn't knock when she entered Tommy's office, obviously surprised someone was in there. She knew Tom was in studio A and Jude was hiding elsewhere. Laura hadn't sat a foot in this building since the Jude-Tommy affair had hit the news. While The Affair had only proven her suspicions about Jude, sleeping her way up, right, Portia did find it odd the girl was hiding when she should be making her next move.

And now this. A new girl. In Tommy's office.

"You didn't knock," Sadie said, motioning for the door.

"No."

"In other words, you were breaking in."

"No … I just didn't know someone was in here."

"Then why'd you come here? To snoop around? To steal something? To pee on the floor to leave your mark?

"Excuse me?"

"You're Portia Mills. The She-Devil of G-Major. The Yoko Ono of Boyz Attack." Sadie switched the PC screen off. "You are the personification of everything I hate. You ruined my teenage dreams of one day becoming the first Mrs. Tommy Quincy. You're the reason the best band since The Rolling Stones split up. So, let's try this again: Why did you enter a room off limits to you, without knocking? Or do you want me to call security and have them find out?"

"You're not Jude."

"It took you until now to notice? Maybe a doctor is in order."

"Would you stop this? I'm Portia, Tom's first wife. Darius' sister. I don't need a reason to come here. I can come and go whenever I want!"

"Not into this office."

"Get Tom."

"Huh?"

"I said, get Tom. I'm not letting myself get bitched at by some snotty blonde."

"Since you're neither his current wife nor his current love interest nor any other person of significant meaning to him, you have no right to give me orders."

"Who the hell are you?!"

"Sadie Harrison. Chief Personal Assistant." As long as Jude was Tommy's Personal Assistant, Sadie would be her Chief. She didn't do well as second in command. "Also, first daughter of Stuart Harrison the First. And, if things go as planned, the future sister-in-law to Tom Quincy. Which, summed up, means I have a right to be in this office and you haven't. Once again: What are you doing here?"

"Nothing." With that, Portia stormed out. And right into Darius' office. "There's blonde bimbo sitting in Tom's office, apparently his next screw, or scandal. What the hell is going on here? Two Harrisons now work here? Aren't you afraid they'll take over completely? First Jude fucks her way into your life and now you let her sister replace her? I told you that it was only a matter of time before Jude would show her true colors and—"

"Charles was here last week. Charles Henley. You do remember him, right? The two of you had some odd form of friendship going on once and you were hovering around him lately. He said that, a couple of years ago, you introduced Jude to him. As an eighteen year old ingénue trying to get signed. When I asked you what Jude meant by having discriminating evidence against me and my label, you said it was probably nothing. _Probably_. You also said there was something going on between Charles and Jude and that there were pictures. I don't like the word '_probably'_. That word made me buy someone a very expensive house. Why did you introduce Jude to him? And beware, I might know the answer to it already!"

Significantly paler, Portia closed the door behind her. "Jude wanted a record deal. I wanted to help her get one. Things went a little far back then. She wanted to drink; I figured introducing her as eighteen would be more appropriate and less awkward for Charles. They were attracted to each other. Things developed. Someone recognized Jude and one word let to another and Charles found out she was only sixteen. He didn't take it well. Which, personally, I really didn't get. Having sex with a sixteen year old isn't forbidden, is it?"

"Offering her cocaine is."

"Charles had some problems back then. I admit that. Maybe I shouldn't have introduced them."

"Charles said you had encouraged him to seduce her and to drug her. So you could take pictures."

"Liar! Have you fired him?" Portia huffed haughtily.

"I strongly urged him to return to England. He was afraid you'd tell me your side of the story and paint him the devil. Smart guy, foreseeing that. Where are the pictures, Portia?"

She stepped further into the office, seething, "Jude and Tommy screwed each other and I guarantee you she WILL come and demand a record deal. I was just trying to look out for you! And with that Sadie-bitch working for Tom now, you'll only have more to worry about."

"The pictures, Portia. Where are they?"

She gave a devilish glare. "I'll never tell."

**xxx**

Sadie had gone through a lot of trouble to find out what fitness studio Laura visited. One would think the still-husband knew but Tommy proved himself to be surprisingly useless when it came to his wife's habits. He didn't even know which hair salons she frequented, let alone what nail salon! If there were three things a husband was supposed to know, it'd be hair, nails and fitness. Women spent most of their free time there, so in order to know where to find them, those information were crucial. No wonder that marriage failed!

Now, dressed in a brand new pair of mint green tights and a bandeau top that showed off some abs she had worked excruciatingly hard for, both clothing articles paid for by Tommy simply because she'd outwitted and annoyed him, she was ready to start her mission. Befriend Laura and find out what she expected from Tommy in exchange for forgiveness.

Finding her target on the cross trainer, Sadie made her way to the free one right next to her. "Hey, is this one taken?"

Startled, but barely interested, Laura shook her head. "Don't know, don't care." She plugged her iPod in and flipped through her music inventory when Sadie once more interrupted.

"I'm here for the first time. Is this a good place to meet guys?"

This time Laura took a closer look at the bubbly, talk-active girl next to her. And sighed. "Be straight, I don't have time for hidden agendas: Talk National or Inquirer – who is it you work for?"

"Excuse me?"

"Puh-lease! I chose this fitness club because its clientele is very exclusive. It's fortune five hundred of Toronto and its outer burrows. Mint green tights? What's that? Nineties? And that top? I believe I last saw it on _Peggy Bundy_." One condescending all over and Laura sniffed. "Let me guess: Walmart?"

"No," Sadie snapped, "it's Adidas!" So much for becoming friends! That woman was mean, bitchy and completely arrogant! She was like Sadie, in High School! Only richer and with better hair.

"Whatever. You see these?" She wiggled the earplugs in front of Sadie's face. "That's the international sign for 'no talking'. Grasp that, leave me alone and by all means, get a different outfit. You're offensive in mint green! And it makes your belly look wobbly. Guess you really could use some training. I almost pity you. Never mind. Bye bye!" Plugging the ear buds back in, Laura returned to her work-out.

Sadie meanwhile seethed and ground her teeth. Never had anyone dared to speak so…so…_Sadie-like_ with her! Fine, she thought, and decided to screw Plan A. It would not only take ages to befriend this woman, but also a miracle and presumably some gray hair. While time and effort were one thing, Sadie was under no circumstances willing to risk early graying. Besides, she'd always been the honest, blunt type. Harshness suited her. She excelled at being frank. And she looked stunning in mint, no matter what Laura said!

"You're still here," Laura observed. "And you're standing in my way as well. I can't work out when your cheap perfume invades my nostrils."

A big eye-roll later, Sadie leaned against the cross-trainer and blurted out, "I'm Sadie Harrison. Jude's sister. Tommy hired me to find out what you want in order to forgive him. He feels genuinely sorry and—" She'd have said more but her across was bending forward, laughing loud and strong.

"I'm sorry," she wheezed, "come again? You are…and he did…oh God! Ha ha ha ha..."

A few minutes later they were sitting in the refreshment area of the fitness club. Laura, who was sipping on a glass of cucumber water, was still in awe over her still-husband's actions, but not really surprised, to be honest. He'd always preferred the easy way and what better solution to his quest for her forgiveness than letting somebody else do the work. "I have one question," she said as she crossed her legs. "Did he give you a money limit? Like, absolution can be bought for five thousand or less? Or what is a no-limits deal? Cause that would really shock me!"

Slightly stunned by the turn of events, Sadie was sticking to her strategy of brutal honesty. "I get a purse if I can smooth things over with you." She kept the part about reuniting him with Jude to herself, though. There was a difference between brutality and necessity. "I half-expected tears, I got to be honest."

"For finding out he chose the easiest way?" She snorted. "Oh please. I appreciate your honesty. So I'll be blunt as well. If I had it my way, Tom Quincy would be dead and quartered. He'd have died slowly. Poison, maybe. Or rats. I hear it's quite painful if they eat you alive. Then again, I'm still his wife legally, so there's time left to consider those ideas. Warn him, will you, to stay away from rooftops or bridges. One might accidentally push him over. He can go to hell, for all I care! He cheated. Twice. And his regret? Let me fill you in on his psyche: He doesn't want forgiveness. He wants peace. He loves a quiet life. One where he can go and do whatever the heck he feels like. He's like a big, fat sleepy cat. Disturb him and he'll take a turn and maybe Meow some to get comfortable again. The rest of the time he doesn't lift a paw. I disrupted his sleep. He's trying to get comfortable again. He doesn't care at all about me."

"Meaning," Sadie tried to conclude, "you'll never forgive him? Cause I'm not sure you're right. He said he felt bad for how he treated you not just during that separation/mediation meeting, but during all those days he knows you."

"He said that?"

Sadie nodded.

"Honey," she belittled, "you got to learn a lot. He's a musician. He loves words. Did you know he ordered a whole collection of Regency Romance novels to train his sweet-talking abilities? He stashed presents for me, _knowing_ he'd need them to make up for something. He's a master of manipulation. How do you think your sister fell for him? And be honest, will you: you're a little bit in love with him as well. I don't blame you. He has a voice smooth as silk. His body is…well, you have eyes. Women look at him and they see his thick hair and suddenly all they want is drive their fingers through it. When he looks this one special, lazy, sexy way, you'll melt like butter in a hot pan. And then, when he really sets his eyes one something, or someone, he'll be the most funny, suave, persuasive and charming man you've ever met. I know because I fell for it. Twice. When he came to me after having cheated for the first time, he was so determined at winning me back, I'd have taken him back even if the naked floozy had still clung to him. I know how ridiculous that sounds. But that's the Tom Quincy you know. I bet you asked to help him. That's what always happens. He's the core of the entire universe and everything just magically drifts towards him. But eventually you wake up and see him for what he really is: A lazy, self-centered asshole. He married me to prove something to himself. Took me a while to figure it out, actually. He didn't love me. I was a quest. An adventure. An experiment. And I failed to keep him interested. Warn your sister. It'll happen to her too. One day the excitement is gone and the next day, so will he. Tell him something, would you? Say, 'you can go and fuck yourself!'" She took another sip of cucumber water. "I'll never forgive him because he'll never regret."

**xxx**

"Do you regret?" Sadie sat across Tommy in his office, occupying the big leather chair Jude had so often sat in. Eyes fixated on him, she tried hard to read him but it was incredibly difficult. Laura had been right. You look at Tommy and you see the man you've always dreamed of. If someone asked her to point out one flaw, she'd have to look really, really hard and even then she couldn't promise to find one. Almost like looking into a magic mirror. You see what you want to see. "I know you said you're sorry, but … really, what exactly are you sorry for? Sleeping with Jude? Can you honestly say that you wouldn't do it again? And if you're not sorry for that, why ask for forgiveness?"

Startled by this onslaught of directness, Tommy simply answered, "Laura is suffering. I saw it in her eyes the other day. And she's doing so because of me. I don't like that feeling. I want it to go away."

"You did a bad thing. The feeling is justified."

"If I could do it all over again, I would never marry Laura. She deserves someone who picks the stars from the sky and hands them to her on a silver platter. She deserves that fairytale prince every girl dreams of. I couldn't be that person. I failed. And now she's suffering. Life isn't fair."

"You make it sound so tragic. A twist of fate that simply happened. You cheated, Tommy. And you didn't do it because you were in love with Jude. You barely grasp that you are, now!" Laura had been right about this as well: He did have a way with words!

"I said I failed," he defensively stretched.

"No, you screwed up. What you did wasn't human incapability. It was a selfish, bad thing."

"I. Know."

"Do you?"

"Okay, Sadie: I'm not the one studying Sociology!"

"Sorry!" She held up her hands, offering peace. "Just saying, you're make yourself sound like one of the victims. You're the murderer, Tommy. Not the dead girl!"

"You should remember that you don't have the purse yet. And that I can fire you any second."

She scoffed. "Oh puh-lease! I'm _so_ indispensable! You don't even know you're own phone number!"

"I do! It's … somewhere in my phone, I'm sure."

"Case and point." She stretched and yawned. "Anyway, Laura and I talked. She said, and I quote, 'go fuck yourself'."

He grinned. "She always had spunk!"

"But no forgiveness." Sadie resumed. "She doesn't believe you mean it."

"I figured that much. Any ideas?"

"Genuine effort. And with that I mean you'll have to move your own ass and get active. Good night."

**XXX**


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 18. All In.

Jude stood in front of what used to be her office at G-Major. Now there was a giant plaque on the wooden door frame that read, _'Sadie Harrison, Chief Personal Assistant.'_ And in small letters, printed and not even in bold letters, _'Jude Harrison, Assistant to the Assistant'_. Somewhere way below was also, on a small post-it sized piece of paper the name _'Tom Quincy'_.

"You Harrisons have a real obsession with door signs, don't you?" Tommy had followed her as soon as he'd seen her entering the lobby. Not caring that he was leaving a very important recording session, since there was always Kwest to continue in his absence, he was too elated to finally talk with her again. She hadn't shown her face in more than three weeks, actually he hadn't seen her since that awful night when he'd been too stupid to stay sober, and he had left her alone, gave her room to come to terms with what had happened.

Jude's smile was shy and small as she met his eyes. "Hey."

"Hey," he replied.

"Haven't seen you in a while. How are you doing?" It felt so silly having small talk with her. She looked a little skinnier than before. Her face was paler than usually. He assumed it was because she'd stayed at home for so long, hiding. Her hair had grown, and it looked as if she'd curled it an extra bit. It suited her, he thought. "You look good."

Looking down, but unable to suppress the smile that was widening slightly, she said, "thanks. I'm sorry I vanished for a while. I just didn't know what to do instead." He earned an explanation. "Everywhere I went, people snapped pictures of me. Today was the first day no photographer waited outside my house. Or maybe I just didn't see him," she added on an afterthought. "So Sadie has taken over my job?"

He tried to decipher her tone. Was is disappointment? Was it anger? He couldn't say. It sounded too nonchalant. "She offered to help. We came to an agreement." Shifting from one foot to another, he felt slightly uneasy. "But the big table in there, with the PC and the colored post-its, it's yours. It always will be. You just have to come back."

Her response was a fairly deeper intake of breath. "Tommy … maybe." She wanted to say something else. She wanted to quit. To leave behind what had shocked the very core of her life and had made everything so complicated. But for some reason she couldn't give up the only excuse she had to come here. The job she wasn't doing was her alibi to be here right now. "I came to see Darius. He wants me to do an interview, as his employee who feels bad and guilty. But now that things finally cooled down a bit, I want to let it rest at that. If nobody else starts talking about it again, I won't either. He understood."

"Sounds like a good idea."

After a brief, slightly awkward silence, Jude leaned her hip against the wall, admitting, "I saw some interesting pictures of you in the tabloids. Self-help books, you buying chocolate and flowers, a therapy session ... if I didn't know better I'd say you're trying to reconcile with Laura."

"I'm not," he said, fast and decisive. "But I'm trying to mend things with her. To make up. I should have told you—"

"No! I mean, it's good that you're doing that. It's … Really, it's good."

"Are you disappointed I didn't tell you?"

"No. I went to make amends with Shay as well. And, not that it matters, but I did tell Laura I'm sorry about what happened. Nothing was supposed to go the way it did."

"My marriage was failing before I met you. It was failing from the second it began. No matter what you and I did, Laura and I were doomed to fail. I never loved her. I wanted to love her, I wanted to fall for her, but … it wasn't meant to be. Jude, I want to apologize." She met his gaze, startled. "When your life was falling into pieces, I should have been there with you. I should have helped you. Instead I left you on your own. You were trying to tell me of all the bad things that were happening because of what you and I did and instead of showing you that there's light at the end of the tunnel, I let you wander in darkness."

A grin tugged on her lip. "Did you actually read those self-help books?"

"A few of them," he admitted. "I had some time to spare."

Eyes met for a long lasting moment. For the first time in almost two months, Jude was reminded why she fell for Tommy in the first place. When he wanted, he could be extraordinary, saying the right thing at the right time, looking at her in just that way that she needed him to look at her. He was the only person she knew who could make someone feel completely understood.

"Do you have some time, I mean, do you have to be somewhere?"

When she shook her head, Tommy reached out, gently taking her hand, sending electric sparks through every part of her body. It was riveting. Awakening. Dangerous.

He must have felt it too. Movements haltered. Minutes, hours, days seemed to pass before he finally croaked, "Coffee?" When Jude hesitated, he offered, "we can drive wherever you want to go. Far, far away, where nobody knows us."

"The café around the corner is fine," she assured, smiling kindly. She didn't trust herself with him, especially not far, far away, where nobody knew them. _Far, far away. _That was the place where fairytales were taking place. Where magic happened. Where _they_ might happen. Right now, _far, far away_ was a place she wasn't ready to go. Not yet.

xxx

"You know, you're my all time first choice when it comes to a Personal Assistant, but Sadie is really good at this job. She made Darius adjust to _her_ plans. The other female staff regards her as some sort of Guru when accessories are concerned and she single-handedly brought Shay to tears the other day when he dumped one of the flings he'd hooked up with. That woman is frightening!" He laughed when Jude did the same. "Speaking of Shay," Tommy said, "you guys made up? You apologized to him? For what?"

"The trouble I caused him." Jude took a sip from her coffee. "We're even now. I wanted him to know that." After a longer pause, a small smile flashed her face, when she remembered, "I met up with a friend recently and he said something to me that stuck with me." Casting her eyes downward, teeth biting on a finger nail, she became calmer and more introverted. "And that's what I also wanted to talk to you about. Apparently I want people to hate me for what happened. It's true."

"Why?"

"It makes things easier. If everyone were saying bad things about me, I could defend myself. Make a case for myself. But nobody blamed me, thanks to Darius, and so I felt the constant need to add that I was at fault as well. I had to remind everyone and myself of what I had done. And it wasn't easy. I'm still having my issues with that. Dad feels sorry for me. Sadie … is Sadie. In school, they look at me as though I'm a joke, not actually believing you'd pick me and I ended up yelling in class that you did, quote, 'fuck me' and … I had a bad couple of weeks. But I'm adjusting."

Tommy wasn't sure what to say, other than, "That's good, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good." He agreed.

"I also wanted to apologize." In a split second, her lighter mood vanished.

"What?" Tommy wondered.

Jude looked away, aimlessly gazing out the window. "You said I look for things to use against you. You were right. I really did that."

"Jude," he interrupted, "all is okay! Really."

"I thought about your words. I've done that a lot. I use the things you say against you. I don't want to do that. I don't mean to do that. Sometimes it is some sort of reaction. A mechanism. I've developed it to keep people at a distance."

"You really did think about it!"

"I had some spare time," she joked. "But honestly, I don't want to push you away. So if I do it again, tell me and I know. I'll stop. I'm working on that. You're one of those people that take life a certain way. For every opportunity that's lost, another one comes along. You have fun and enjoy and you aren't afraid. Sadie told me I only do the things I know will work out to my liking. She said I calculate and I plan and … I've become the very person I never wanted to become."

"Jude, you're barely eighteen years old. You have every chance to become whomever you want to be. To be the kind of person you want to be."

He was astounded when her eyes turned a misty shade and wondered if he'd said something bad when she gulped heavily, trying to keep her composure. "It takes a lot of courage to change oneself."

This time, when he reached for her hand, sparks weren't the first thing she felt. Jude felt reassured. Understood. Not alone. She closed her eyes and squeezed his hand ardently. "I'm afraid of the things I want," she whispered softly. "I'm scared to want _anything_."

Tommy speculated if he was part of what she was afraid of, if he fell into the category of things she wanted.

Their moment was interrupted by a paparazzo appearing in front of the window, clicking away on his camera.

"So much for _End of Story_." Jude got up, quickly rearranged her emotions, and offered Tommy a fleeting smile. "We should do this again some time. Spend time together. I miss you."

"I miss you, too."

Once Jude was gone, he paid their coffees and got his jacket. This time he didn't need Sadie, or anyone else, to get into the next flower shop and buy a bouquet. And this time, even the store owner was surprised by the dimensions of what Tommy wanted.

xxx

"How are we supposed to get it inside?" Sadie and Jude stood in the doorway, staring at what appeared to be a bouquet filled with a thousand red roses. "That thing needs its own room!"

"Did you buy this?" Jude was in awe of what had been delivered, but was careful granting Tommy credit. She didn't need a card to know it was he, who did this. Or, at least, who had paid for it. "Did you send me these in his name?"

"No," Sadie insisted. "Read the card, Jude." She handed it over. "I think he did this one on his own. And he even wrote lyrics as well, because this is no Boyz Attack song."

"'Cos every feeling that you've lost

Is waking up inside you

And every dream you've cast away

Is coming back to find you

If you only do it once

Then do it now

And if you only dream it once

Then dream it now"

(Glass Pear, Say it Once)

"So he actually went through the trouble of getting me some flowers?"

"Jude, that guy just got you a gigantic flower-arrangement. He must have paid a fortune for it. You've barely looked at it. All you care about is who actually called the florist?"

The younger Harrison shrugged. "Money isn't a big deal for him. Doing something on his own is."

xxx

"You didn't really think she'd come running for you, did you?" Sadie leaned against Tommy's desk, arms crossed, her expression mocking. "She did like the flowers, but she even more liked that you went to get them on your own. But, and I'm supposed to tell this to you, if you think this will make her forget you're still married, you're mistaken."

The producer sighed heavily. "Before the divorce is finalized a whole year will have to pass. She does realize that, right? It's not that I want to jump right into bed with her, although I wouldn't be opposed," he murmured. "I just want a date. The world knows. Laura knows. She and I officially filed for divorce. I don't get why we have to wait a whole year!"

"Maybe not a whole year," Sadie said, understanding his agony. "But a little while. Jude is only slowly adjusting to this new life. She can't get rid of the paparazzi for good. Everyone knows who she is and what the two of you have done. Give her a some time. Let things calm down. Look, I'm not supposed to tell anyone about this, because she doesn't even know if she'll do it, but … she got an offer for a new job. As assistant."

"To whom? I'll pay double!"

"To…" Sadie hesitated, before lying, "I don't know his or her name. It's not the person, Tommy. It's the place. It's in New York."

xxx

"You know," Jude said, when she entered Tommy's hotel room later that night, "I want to stay off page one and coming here late at night isn't helping with that." She shrugged her jacket off and tossed it over a nearby chair. "What's so important? Your message was pretty vague!"

"For a reason." He closed the door behind her. "You wouldn't have come otherwise. And Sadie said your Dad is at home. This isn't something I want to discuss with him in earshot."

"And what would that big mysterious discussion be about?" She leaned against the side of the couch, letting her eyes wander across the room. Housekeeping hadn't been here in a while, it seemed. Two trays of old food, strewn clothes, a towel on the bed and a couple of empty bottles. Some of whom once contained heavy liquor. Living alone, it appeared, wasn't his forte. Her gaze met his and she shrugged her shoulders. "Well…? Why was it so important I come here?"

Tommy struggled to find the right words. He hadn't thought this plan through. After Sadie had informed him that Jude thought about leaving for New York, it had seemed important to speak with her about it. Now that she was actually here, he wasn't quite sure how to broach the topic. And Jude got more impatient by the minute.

"Tommy, why am I here?"

He might as well just come to point. "New York."

Jude frowned. "Los Angeles. What's this? Randomly naming cities?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, I mean I know about the offer from New York."

"Oh." And with that she took a seat, realizing this would take some time.

"Yeah, _oh_. You've been my assistant for a couple of months only and don't get me wrong, but until the headlines about us came up, your fame was pretty limited. Actually, hardly anyone knew your full name. Let alone your capabilities as an assistant. How come you got an offer so quickly?"

"Is that really what you want to know?" Jude asked, crossing her arms defensively. She knew well enough that he had just said the truth, and yet, having him explain so effectively how one-sided her fame was, did sting a little. "Cause as it so happens, the offer comes from someone I met here. He liked how we worked together—"

"Oh!"

Jude replied with a quick glare. "Are you mocking me?"

"The one thing the world knows about you and me is the fact that we had sex."

"And…?" she asked, not immediately catching on.

"Well," Tommy scoffed, "that means whoever offered for you probably thinks you're easy. You slept with your boss once, why not do it again, huh?"

A heavy silence followed that statement.

"Look," he clarified, "I'm just saying you should be carefully examining this offer before you take it, because—"

"Because the offer might come from someone who thinks I'm easy. I did understand you well the first time." She adjusted in her seat and waited with a reply to not say something wrong. Only that didn't work so well. "I _am_ easy. We did have sex, Tommy. No prior date. You were married. I knew. I _am_ easy. So, are you afraid I say 'yes' and leave for New York or are you afraid I will say 'yes' _again_?"

A flash of anger shimmered in his eyes. "If you're really asking that—"

"I am asking," she stated and stood up, grabbing her nearby jacket. "After I spent weeks of trying to come to terms with what I did, with what _we_ did, are you really wondering if I go and do it all over again?"

"Is your new boss is married, too?"

He had not meant for it to come out this way.

"Screw you!"

"Jude, wait," he called after her, even when she was out the door. "I didn't mean it that way. I really don't want you to leave!"

"Why?"

"Because," he began but finished with a kiss. Her back was pressed against the hallway wall, her body flattened by his, while his lips devoured her with a ferocity that left her breathless and panting. When he leaned back, a glimmer of victory shone in his sparkly blue eyes. "That's why."

Forgotten was the argument they'd had. "Kiss me again."

He didn't need to be told twice. With one arm around her, holding her close to him as their lips fused together, he maneuvered them into his room with the other hand, slamming the door shut behind them. "God I want you," he groaned while fast fingers unfastened her pants. "I've been wanting you for weeks!" Everything happened in a blurry row of movements, motions and moans. Pants off. Shirts off. Underwear off. Then they wound up on the bed, which was interesting, Jude vaguely noted, because this was the first time there was an actual bed around. Couches were their usual place.

"Socks," Tommy said, his voice strained, as he kicked them off while trying not to crush Jude, who only then realized she still had them on as well. Sex with socks? With a giggle she got rid of them. Not when there was a bed involved. They weren't that sex-starved, were they? When their lips met again, she thought maybe they were. It had been a long time. She had missed him terribly. His wonderful warm, hot, searing body meshed so close. Feeling his skin against hers. She moaned his name when his hand began caressing her nether lips. And she nearly fainted when he brought her over the edge with his mouth. That luscious, full, soft lips that always left her in a state of arousal, even if he just talked to her with them.

And then he entered her. His throbbing erection pushed its way into her tight passage as he pulled her on top of him. She wasn't used to being on top. It gave her a new form of control. Of being the mercy of him. Placing her hands behind her, on his knees, she moved in sync with him, relishing, loving the feelings of his hands on her breasts, manipulating both her and himself to another shattering release.

How she had missed him!

xxx

"What happens now," Jude whispered into the darkness, smiling lazily as his lips kissed their way up and down her spine, bringing forth tingles and chills. "I didn't plan for this to happen,."

He chuckled, his light stubble grazing her tender skin. "Shocking. Sex with me and you weren't prepared for it."

"That's not how I meant it." Although, maybe she had. For a moment she closed here eyes. She wasn't prepared for it. More, she wasn't ready for it. Odd, she thought. How can one not be ready for something that already occurred? Could one retroactively become ready? Truth was, this shouldn't have happened. Damn him and his eyes, his lips, his recklessness! Turning around, she wasn't shy, despite being fully naked. Not anymore. Not after everything they had done that night. Or during any of those nights before. "What will happen next?"

"Shower? Bath? Living room? So many opportunities..."

"You're being deliberately irritating." She tugged on his head and placed a fierce kiss on his lips. The feeling of simply being able to do so was utterly new and startlingly amazing. Almost as if, along with tonight, she'd been granted ownership over him. She was the woman allowed to kiss him, nobody else, not even– Everything went still. That was one reason she wasn't ready for this!

"What's wrong?" Tommy tried to kiss her again. This time she stopped him.

"Laura," she whispered.

Almost annoyed, but trying his hardest not to show, he sat up. "Jude, Laura and I are done. There's no more 'Laura and I'. There's me and you, now."

"I know." At least she told herself that she knew. But it was a new feeling. And whether he wanted to hear it or not, legally he was still married. "I'm trying to understand that. And I know that she's not here. I just can't forget her. She's always there, in the back of my head. I think I've gotten over it. For minutes, hours, days she's gone until suddenly, she's not gone anymore but right there, in front of my eyes, staring at me full of disgust for what we're doing."

"And that leaves us right where we left things a couple off weeks ago." He let himself fall back, into the cushion, his head rolling to his side to look at her. "I want to be with you. I want what we have, only more of it. I want you, every night, every day, everywhere. I want to spend my time with you and find out if this thing between us can become something more. I want you to meet my friends. To become a part of my life. I'm ready to go all in with you, Jude. But are you ready to do the same?"

"Why?" She smiled, softly, at his admission, pretending to be calm and on top of the situation, but deep inside, in her very core, where his penetrating gaze could not see it, she was scared to death and desperately searching for a dark spot to hide. This wouldn't be a … a thing, as he called it. This would be news. Headlines. It meant TV cameras. More paparazzi. They would doubtlessly become the title story again. And then Laura would know and judge them. Everyone would judge them. They would judge her. This wasn't trying out. No baby steps. This really, actually was 'all in', as he'd said. Why couldn't this guy be like everyone else? Tentative. Careful. Shy of people finding too soon. "I mean, why are you so willing to risk it all."

"What's to risk? We'll see where it goes."

Lips met. Gently. Tenderly. She closed her eyes, enjoying, savoring, before leaning back, asking, "You said, 'all in'?"

"We don't hold back, Jude. We'll see where it takes us. We try. We'll be an adventure. An experiment." His voice was rising with each syllable. He was so excited.

She was so scared. And he wouldn't even understand why. They were talking about entirely different things. He wanted her. Tommy and Jude, all in. To him, it was about a relationship. To her, though, it was about life as a whole. Her _all in_. They were so different. He had divided his live in a countless array of small pieces. Toy Blocks. If one piece broke, the rest remained untarnished. They might topple over, but they remained. Her life was a very fragile, delicate porcelain figurine and if only stared at for too long, it was doomed to shatter into a million irreparable pieces. She wanted to say 'no'. But then her eyes found his sparkling, exhilarated ones. And she melted. "Okay."

Full of exuberance, he kissed her again, made love to her again. For a while, Jude even forgot about Laura. About reality as a whole. She forgot about tomorrow. She forgot to worry. And she forgot to be guarded. Somehow his energy, his enthusiasm for her, for them, was intoxicating. In the darkness of his room, it was all so easy. If only the sun never came out again.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 19. All I Ever Wanted.

Not telling anyone about this, Sadie was back in the fitness club where she'd met Laura the first time. Without planning for it to happen, or being prepared for it when it had occurred, the two of them had become friends. Unexpectedly and out of the oddest circumstances. But they were a good fit. Laura was condescending and smug. Sadie was amazed. At first, Sadie had come back to the fitness studio to talk more with Laura about Tommy. She had taken pity on her new boss; she saw him struggling to make things right with his ex-wife. She'd seen him buy self-help books, go to a therapy lesson and she'd even stopped sending Laura flowers because he'd begun doing that on his own.

Yet his ex-wife didn't budge to show even a tiny sign of at least noting his effort.

"Why?" Sadie had asked, in the back of her mind worried about Jude.

"You'll see," Laura had answered, mystically, as she had a way of doing to Sadie's surprise.

Then, once they'd talked about Tommy and run out of things to say. Or, Sadie ran out of things to say and Laura stopped rolling her eyes about her ex, they ended up talking about fashion, Sadie's foible for pastel colors and Laura's luck of being able to afford any designer piece she liked. Envy, which was Sadie's normal reaction that kind of life, didn't came this time. She knew about the tears Laura had cried, because she'd seen them. One page one. With the rest of the world. She knew about the loneliness in Laura's life. Friendship was rare when money was involved. And now, because nobody else seemed to find it important to tell her, it was Sadie, who had to inform her about Tommy and Jude and their venture into a somewhat official relationship.

Standing next to the cross-trainer, Sadie offered a paper tissue. "I understand that it hurts."

Laura sneered. "I'm not crying because of my son-of-a-bitch, asshole, crackhead future ex-husband, but because I just happen to have something in my eye!"

"Okay."

"I have something in both my eyes."

"More tissues?

"Yes." She sniffled. "I'm also allergic to pollen."

Yeah, since everyone knew that there were no place more pollen-filled than a fancy fitness studio miles away from the next tree. "I understand. Here." She handed over the whole box of paper tissues. "You want me to get you some water?"

Laura shook her head. "No." Another sniffle. "That won't be necessary. All better already. So," she said, once she'd blown her nose, "you were saying that Tom and Jude are together now? How unsurprising. I saw it coming all along."

"Yeah," Sadie murmured disbelievingly. "If you don't want to talk about it, it's fine. I just wanted you to find out before some reporter would ask you about it. They will go to one of his friend's birthday party tonight. Together. I tried talking them out of it, but he seems to be determined on not keeping anything a secret anymore." While she was happy for her sister, who did seem cheerier and more relaxed these days, she wasn't a fan of the fact that they were showing themselves off. They could have met at the party. Walking the red carpet was absolutely unneeded.

"So Jude finally gave in, huh?" Laura knew about Jude's hesitation, from Sadie.

"Yep." A faint frown settled on Sadie's forehead. "Really, do you want to know the details?"

"I need to know the details. I know that I should just move on and forget him altogether, but I can't." She stepped down from the cross-trainer and wiped her face with a towel. "But I can understand if you don't want to fill me in on what you know. Jude is your sister."

A sigh slipped from Sadie's lips as she sat down on a nearby bench. "Talking about Jude. Look, I – before I met you, not that it matters – was the one trying to bring them together. Jude and Tommy. My sister was miserable and Tommy was … he had said that he was falling in love with her and I thought that it would be good for them to be together. There were feelings. They had this pull towards each other. He brought out a side in her that I hadn't seen in ages. I know that, from your point, I must be a terrible person for rooting for a marriage to fail and for a married man to choose my sister over his wife. I didn't know you and so I didn't care for you. I was feeling sorry for you, in a way, but—"

"Sadie, it's okay. I understand." Laura took a seat next to her and noticed, upon closer examination, that Sadie was looking terribly concerned. "I'm not mad at you, if you're worried."

The elder Harrison shook her head. "An adventure. An experiment. You remember telling me that?"

Laura nodded.

"That's exactly what Tommy said to Jude when he convinced her to say 'yes' to dating him. She told me that he wants to go all in and not worry about anything. He wants to see where it'll go. I don't know if that's a bad thing. It's not, I guess. I try life. You do and you learn from your mistake." Her head lowered further. "But Jude, before she met Tommy, had kind of a really rough time. Stuff happened and – never mind. What I'm trying to say is that Tommy is like a roly-poly. He gets through. Jude … she's different. And I'm worried that she won't bounce back this time. What if she can't keep track with Tommy? What if the press goes after her? There's so much more that can go wrong with Tommy than what could go wrong with a normal boyfriend."

"I think," Laura said with collected strength, "that you have to trust your sister. She's smart. And, the way I've gotten to know her, she can look out for herself. Like you said. You learn from mistakes." Who'd have thought she'd ever take a stand for a husband-stealing teenager! She was sure her therapist would one day make a lot of money on the book he'd doubtlessly write about this!

"You think she learned from what happened between you, Tommy and her?"

Actually, Laura had meant that Jude must have learned from what had happened years ago. Stuff she herself had only learned about through very few pictures. But who knew if Sadie even knew about that part of Jude's life. "Yeah, that's what I mean. She's a big girl."

"Let's hope."

o

o

o

"Jude," one of the paparazzi yelled, "Jude, over here! Smile! Exactly!" He kept snapping pictures. "Does Laura know you two date? Is she heartbroken about it? Rumors have it she threatened the both of you? Is that true? Jude! Jude!"

He wasn't the only one screaming for her, shouting questions, asking for private things. All did. All two dozen reporters were yelling for her the second Tommy tugged on her hand and helped her out of the car.

"Take a deep breath and just smile. Whatever happens, just smile," he'd said. Like it was that easy. She'd love nothing more than knock her new gold-sparkling clutch into every single one of those paparazzi's faces. But that would be a crime, and she'd get punished for it, while asking for her private sex life in front of about fifty people was completely okay! She ground her teeth and forced herself to smile.

Tommy hardly noticed her effort. He was holding her hand, now and then giving her a peck on the cheek and whispering affectionately, 'keep smiling'. Wearing nothing but a skimpy black dress that, out of all the people in the world, Laura had modeled on the runway for the first time a year ago – a fact she'd only very recently, as in two minutes ago, been made aware off by some fashion reporter – Jude felt like a complete idiot. What sense did it make to smile at someone whose sole purpose seemed to be to ask as many inappropriate questions as possible? Could there be a sense? She gravely doubted it!

"That's enough." Finally Tommy pulled her away and inside the hotel, where for the first time since leaving the car she felt able to breathe again.

"They are vicious," she grumbled, adjusting her dress. Flimsy as the fabric was, it was riding up with every step she took. The night was a disaster and it hadn't even started. Maybe it was her attitude, Jude pondered, but eventually settled on blaming the press and the dress. Who had picked it anyway? It had just shown up on her doorstep earlier. She assumed Tommy had bought it, but did he really? That guy needed guidance buying grocery. It _was_ hard imagining him buying a dress, in her size no less!

"You look absolutely stunning."

Maybe the dress wasn't that bad after all. A few steadying breaths to calm her nerves and she was smiling again, genuinely this time. "Thanks."

Taking his time to show her just how sexy she really looked, Tommy threaded his fingers through her curly hair and met her lips in a languid kiss that, to her, appeared to last days, months maybe. She parted from him with a sigh. They had gotten really good at kissing and love-making, given they'd hardly done anything else during the last days.

"A beauty indeed," a tall, blond man in a tailored navy blue suit said, first greeting Tommy with a guy hug before kissing Jude's hand. "Mitch Parker. Tom's first producer. We go way back. So you're tonight's girl." He grinned at Tommy. "Impeccable taste as always. Come on, let's go inside. Everyone's waiting for you!"

"Why, he isn't the one having his birthday," Jude mentioned, innocently enough, only to get smiled at by Tommy and somewhat laughed at by Mitch.

"Didn't you know? He's the star of every party. Every woman wants him, every guy envies him. Better cling to him, sweetheart, or you'll be you single by the end of the night."

And Jude did cling to him.

o

o

o

It was a little odd, dancing with Tommy when everyone around had their eyes glued to them. "Are we that interesting?" Jude kissed his lips swiftly, to reassure herself and to show everyone else that he was her date and not available.

"You'll get used to it," he promised, taking up the opportunity to catch another kiss. Jude sank deeper into his arms, smiling into the lip-lock. "Every man is jealous of me, because I have you." His eyes danced rakishly across her body. "Perfect dress, I got to say. You're a vision in black silk."

"Thanks to you."

He smiled, but frowned.

"Well," Jude added, "you did pick the dress, right? Or at least have it sent?"

"No … I did not."

"Then who?" Before she could hear his ideas on that, a bunch of guys came up and took Tommy away, leaving her behind in the middle of the dance floor. As she was about to follow, and fret about this rude act, another blond man came up and took over Tommy's place.

"Nice outfit. Highlights your ass. I'd have preferred red, though."

.

_A month ago..._

"_Seriously, Jude, you can't hide forever. And the big sunglasses really don't help you go unnoticed. If anything," Sadie highlighted, "they make people look at you more!" She grabbed them and pushed them into her purse. "Much better. Just act normally. You didn't kill anyone! You had sex with a married man. Jeez, you're not the first girl doing that! Actually, I have … never mind. So, I have to go to class. Remember our deal: You will sit here for at least ten more minutes, and you better not spend that time hiding in the bathroom! You have to go out again. Or you'll wind up being the crazy cat lady that lives alone and has no friends! You do watch The Simpsons, right?" She grabbed her bag. "See you tonight."_

_Stubbornly refusing to say a word to the sister who had dragged her out of the safety of her bedroom and into the harsh surroundings of a crowded Starbucks, Jude watched Sadie leaving her behind defenseless and with not enough money to buy another Muffin. Life sucked! Lucky for her she had a mug full of Premium Hot Chocolate to hold on to. _

_Minutes passed and for the first time in days she actually felt a tiny bit at ease in public. Until the waitress showed up and pushed a piece of paper in front of her. "You're the girl he slept with! Can I have an autograph? I'm a huge fan of you!"_

_Startled, barely able to voice something, she mumbled, "You're a fan of _me_?"_

"_Yeah! You're, like, a working class hero! Doing anything for the fame! I'd so sleep with a famous guy to get rich!"_

"_Excuse me?! That's not what—"_

"_No autographs today." A man in a brown jacket and baseball cap pressed himself between Jude's chair and the waitress. "Ms. Harrison, you're ready to leave?"_

_Doing anything to get out of here, even following a guy she didn't know and who could just as well be a crazy psychopath, she quickly grabbed her stuff. "Definitely!"_

_Outside the Starbucks, the guy took off his baseball cap. Jude was speechless. _

"_You look nothing like I thought you would. Gotta give Tom some credit, though. He has a thing for finding the underdogs! But, to be honest, if I hadn't read the tabloids, I'd not have believed it. You're not the usual big, blonde, busty and brainless-type. But your voice – that's really your best bet. All those times we talked on the phone ..." _

"_We talked once. And I distinctively remember hanging up on you." Jude sighed as she zipped up her jacket. "Chaz Blackburn. We finally meet."_

_He smugly smiled. As confident and self-assured as Tommy. She wondered if that came with the fame. "Jude Harrison, the iron gate into Tom Quincy's schedule. We finally meet, indeed. Who would have thought you'd hop into bed with him! The first time we talked—"_

"_The only time," Jude pointed out._

"_That one time," he rephrased, still smiling, "I was struck by an immediate fascination for you. So ..."_

"_Competent? Unfazed? Annoyed?" She offered. _

"_Icy," he chose. "You did not fall for my charm! That was a first!"_

"_Are you sure?" _

"_And so feisty. I like that in a girl."_

"_How did you know I was here? Or that I was, well, _me_?"_

"_Luck. And a tabloid. I didn't come looking for you, if you were hoping for that."_

"_I wasn't."_

_"Good. I saw the waitress making a fool of herself. Knight that I am, I just wanted to help out. And then I saw you."_

"_You wanted to help out?"_

"_Well, to be honest, she said she'd sleep with a man for fame and … I'm only male after all."_

"_And suddenly it all makes sense."_

_They stared at each other for a moment. Then Jude turned around. "Thanks for, um, helping." _

"_Wait!" Chaz followed her down the road. "Why so eager to get away from me? I feel like we know each other for ages. Now, that we've finally met, we should go and do something together. Have dinner maybe. Or drinks. Or—"_

_Jude spun around on her heels and dug a pointed finger into his chest. "Listen good, you slimy moron, the first time we talked you asked me about my underwear, which already made me loathe you! Now you want to sleep with me? What the hell is wrong with this world? Just because I had sex with one guy, it doesn't mean I'll have sex with every other guy I meet! So how about you swallow your disgusting offer and get lost?!"_

"_Coffee. I was offering coffee," he clarified, highly amused. _

_Jude lowered her head in shame. This whole publicity thing was driving her crazy! She wasn't made for a life in tabloids! Murmuring a timid, "Sorry!" she made another attempt to walk away from him, when he once again followed. _

"_That's all? You accused me of making you a highly inappropriate offer!"_

"_And if I may remind you, again," she snapped, not sorry anymore, but deeply annoyed by his constant following, "you asked me about my underwear the first time we talked. Highly inappropriate, as well. Let's say we're even. Get lost."_

_But he kept walking with her. "You're really struggling. Usually the girls Tom hooks up with search the headlines. They crave attention. Like that crazy waitress."_

"_But not me," she agreed, agitatedly. "Would you please let me go home? Alone?"_

"_My girlfriend told me she loved me."_

_Now Jude came to a full stop. Slowly turning around, not sure there wasn't a hidden camera somewhere or a guy who'd jump out from behind the corner, shouting "Punk'd" any second now, she simply watched him watching her. Or maybe this was all a nightmare and she was still sleeping. She pinched her hand and winced. "Ouch!" Then she looked at him again. Well, this situation was already as odd as it could get. She might as well go with the flow, as they said. "And do you love her, too?"_

"_I like sleeping with her."_

_Which reminded her of something. "You just told me you wanted to hit on the waitress!"_

"_I don't understand."_

"_Clearly," Jude agreed. "Do you have any idea how alike you and Tommy are? It's, like, Love and Sex are this completely different, absolutely not related things to you."_

"_I still don't understand."_

"_Do you have female friends?"_

"_No."_

"_Ah."_

"_Coffee?"_

_She gave a tired shrug. "Okay." Where else did she have to be, right?_

_._

She smiled, weirdly at ease all of sudden. "Hey Chaz. Haven't seen you in a while. How's your girlfriend? What do you think, would she be happy to hear you complimenting my ass?"

"Probably not. Maybe that's why she broke up with me."

"I'm sorry." She really was. During the last couple of weeks, she'd seen him a few times. After they'd met at Starbucks they had talked and he had helped her come to terms with the fact that she was a public figure now. Then they had met at a small club, where she'd been to support some friends of her who had a band and had played that night. She had been surprised to find him there, until he'd explained to her his new business. He was casting bands for his new label. And she'd been thrilled to find out her friends might get an offer. Then they had talked some more when he'd walked her home and with her confusion and his knowledge of Tommy, they'd eventually talked about her affair with him. He'd helped her figure out that she wanted people to hate her and not pity her for her actions. And she'd encouraged him to ask his girlfriend to move in with him.

"We were only dating a couple of weeks. I acted too fast."

"You said you two felt the same way and that it was love!"

"Turns out it was only temporary attraction. I'll get over it."

"I bet," she agreed quickly and with a wide smile.

He grinned at that. "So, things with you and Tommy worked out, I guess. Dating now. I'm impressed."

Jude wasn't quite that confident. "It's still early."

"But you're dating."

"This actually is our first official date and he isn't really with me." As soon as she'd said it, she felt bad. "That's mean. It's a party. His friends are here. I'm not one of those clingy girlfriends that need constant company. It's just … I don't know anyone," she admitted, "and it's a bit scary. Most of the people here are posters on someone's wall. I can't just go up to someone and be all, _'oh hey, how's life on tour?'_ Also, I get the feeling they all look at me as a one time thing. There was a guy named Mitch and he called me 'tonight's girl." Maybe Tommy hadn't even heard him saying that, but it would have been nice to have him correct that Mitch-guy and stick up for her, if only just a tiny little bit.

"Mitch Parker. Know him. He's just like Quincy, woman-wise." He winced. "I didn't mean … I was … Okay, I'm gonna start over. Mitch is a moron. That guy spends most of his time with hookers. Tommy isn't like that _anymore_ and he never needed to pay someone."

"Thanks for cheering me up." While he might not have done a good job at it, she appreciated his effort.

"You're welcome." He looked down for a second, before meeting her eyes in a more sincere tone. "Have you thought about it? I know you guys are dating now, but … I gotta ask."

"I have thought about it." And she felt ashamed to say it out loud. Tommy was ready to try with her. The guy she'd fallen in love with was dating her. The man that she had thought unachievable was suddenly hers and she was doing what? Thinking about leaving. "I'm not saying 'no', but—"

"You want to go, right? You said you always wanted to come to New York. If you need more persuasion, I signed your friends. Their deal starts in a couple of weeks, once they've finished school. All you have to do is say 'yes' and you can join them. They said they want you there. All the way."

"Are you aware of what you're offering me? Everything I ever wanted."

"That's the point. I want you."

Jude squirmed in his arms, their dance barely a dance anymore for they were hardly moving. "I said 'no' before. Repeatedly. I can't just go and say 'yes' now. He'll never forgive me for that and if I were him, I don't know if I would."

"I'm going to ask you a question but I don't want you to answer it. Just think about it and then, when you have, you give me a call and tell me what your decision is. Okay?"

She nodded.

"When I offered New York, you said you would think about it. If he made an offer tonight – right now – what would say to him?"

"Who offered you what?" Tommy stepped between them and gently pried Jude's hands for Chaz's shoulder. "I wasn't aware you two knew each other. You only talked on the phone. Now you're friends? And what offer?"

"Nothing," Jude dismissed. "We were just talking about the snacks. If had to chose between this and chocolate cake, I'd pick the cake. It's a birthday after all. Who serves fish!" She beamed at him, hoping he hadn't heard too much. "Have your friends relinquished you? Can I have you back now and have another kiss?" She cast Chaz a look, pleading him to disappear. He parted with a nod, mouthing 'New York' one last time.

She simply kissed Tommy until she was sure he had forgotten everything, even his name.

And it worked. "I'm sorry I vanished earlier. I thought you would follow." Tommy nuzzled her neck, gently biting down, triggering a grasp and some stares from onlookers. Jude would have objected to attracting more attention, but he just did these things and maybe having everyone know how much he liked her wasn't the worst thing in the world.

Letting him have his way with her, Jude smiled and enjoyed. "I was entertained. Don't worry. Though, honestly, I can't get over who sent me this dress!"

"Me too. Whoever it was, gotta give him credit. He or she does have taste! You look delicious. Downright eatable."

The innuendo wasn't lost on her.

"I said my 'hellos' and ate some fish. Ready to go?"

"So ready!" Assured Jude and with a coy grin followed him out, only to be short-stopped at the bar. More of his friends. Smiling apologetically at Jude, he agreed to have a drink with some people she didn't know and who made no effort in getting to know her. While Tommy at least introduced her as his girlfriend, they didn't show any signs of interest in that. As she stood on the outskirts of the little group at the bar, she busied herself with a cocktail, meticulously appreciating the nice colors and the funny taste until the glass was empty and she had nothing else to focus her mind on.

"She's got to be great in bed!"

Jude turned around, finding a bunch of women not far away, glancing at her. Looking away again, she kept listening, though. Were they talking about her?

"He left Laura for that slut. She's got to be better than great. Look at her. What else does she have to offer?" A row of giggles followed.

One woman spoke louder than the others, as if wanting Jude to hear. "Another one of those tramps that do anything for fame. How long until she releases her first single, huh? For every hour he records with her, she'll sucks his cock, I bet." Snide laughter.

Jude ordered another drink and tried hard not letting her emotions show. What would be the good of it if she gave that woman a black eye? There'd only be more gossip. And she really wasn't sure just how much more of that she could endure.

Clutching the cocktail glass harder than before, Jude hid behind Tommy's back, where nobody was seeing her, least of all taking her into regard.

Later that night, in bed, with Tommy's mouth on her shoulder and his arms wrapped around her from behind, finally feeling safe and guarded again, she promised herself never to go to any of those parties again. He could go there on his own. They wanted him, not them. Not her. She was just a circus clown, around to be the entertainment. The center of gossip.

"This wasn't so bad, was it?"

Shaking her head slightly, Jude whispered, "no. Just … new. An experience."

"How about another try next weekend? There's a club opening. We got invited."

"We?" she wondered.

"Well, I got invited. But you're my _Plus One_. I want you there with me. Everyone loved you tonight! I loved having you with me." Another kiss, just on her neck, on that very spot that left her sighing blissfully. "I wouldn't have had fun without you tonight."

You wouldn't have missed me tonight, Jude wanted to say but didn't. "I don't think I have time. School is coming to an end. There are tests and lots of stuff to be learned." It wasn't that big of a lie.

"Oh. Okay. But if you manage to spare a few hours, tell me. I really want you there." Another kiss. "Night, Girl."

"Night, Tommy."

xxx


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 20 – Putting Up A Good Show

"_Jude Harrison - Pregnant or Not?"_

"_Jude Harrison - Weight Issues."_

"_How could he leave his model for HER?!"_

"_Jude Harrison – Is the pressure too much?_

"_Jude Harrison – Tommy Q's new girlfriend. WHY?"_

"Jude?"

Jude slammed the magazines shut and quickly shoved them underneath her bed. "Yeah, come in."

Sadie entered, holding a steaming mug of hot chocolate. "Here. You've been hiding in here for the entire day. Tommy called, wondering where you are. Apparently you missed a lunch date with him and some friends. Are you okay?" She looked worried as she sat down, handing her the mug. "Careful, it's hot."

Jude smiled appreciatively, albeit not taking a sip. "Sorry, forgot about it."

"I told him you'd call. Are you really okay? I barely see you anymore. At night you're with him and during the days you somewhere, never saying where you go. And if you're not out, you're in here. I wish you were at least playing guitar, singing, even doing the last few homework assignments of your life." She smiled faintly. "But you're just sitting here. You'd tell me if something was wrong, right? I mean, if Tommy isn't ... If the two of you aren't meant to be, that's okay. You just have to say what's wrong."

"Sadie," the younger Harrison assured, almost vigorously, "I'm fine. We're fine. We're great. Better than that! I'm just a little tired. I don't get much sleep at night, if you know what I mean." She attempted a sly grin. And probably failed, since Sadie gave an odd look. "And school is kind of stressful, even though there are only a few days left. Then there are parties Tommy takes me to and other dates and—"

"Talking about parties. I don't really see you walking the red carpet anymore. He still wants you with him, right?"

"Absolutely. Why, did he say anything? We usually meet inside. That's all. I'm not a big fan of flashlights. Really, that's all there is!"

Sadie wished Tommy would tell her anything about those parties, but every time she asked him about it, he got evasive and vague and then, out of nowhere, he'd remember an important phone call he'd have to make or a meeting he was running late for. As his assistant she knew he was lying half the time.

"Besides, you're always gone too. New boyfriend?"

"Oh, um, no. Just ... busy. Classes, work, you know how it is." She hadn't told Jude about her friendship with Laura yet. Not sure why, but she felt a little bit like betraying her sister, and right now, for some reason, Jude seemed more fragile than ever so Sadie wanted to keep all the bad things away from her. One month into her relationship with Tommy and she wasn't the happy girl everyone would expect her to be. She was quiet, more than usual. She still avoided unnecessary trips to public places. She hid from reporters. She barely went out to eat with her family. Worried, but feeling helpless and powerless, Sadie didn't know what to do other than repeatedly ask Jude if she was doing fine. Sometimes she could almost feel the lies coming out of Jude's mouth. Other times she had a feeling Jude would collapse any second, breaking down in tears. But then her phone would go off or something would happen to change the mood, take away the heaviness and all was fine again.

Something was wrong. Sadie knew. But dammit, what was it?

Almost on cue Jude's cell went off.

"Yep, coming right now!" Jude hung up. Smiling. "Gotta go. See you later, Sades!"

x

x

x

The glossy cover resting on a shelf between a dozen other magazines made her hand itch. Like it had a magical pull on her. _Take me. Read me, _it seemed to whisper, beckoning her to break her rule of never reading a tabloid again. But Laura was weak in that regard and she knew it. Biting her lip, contemplating, she let her eyes feast on the front page a little while longer. It was the picture of Jude on page one that had caused her interest to peak in the first place. And what a picture it was! It was perfect, from a tabloid's point of view. Bad lightning, crappy weather, absolutely horrible clothes, unkempt hair and to top it all, red eyes and short-bitten fingernails. This picture was meant to be a cover story. It could serve to a million different headlines, ranging from the smallest scandal to full-mental breakdown. The bold letters accompanying the picture read, _"Jude Harrison – eating disorder?"_

Laura felt torn. For some reason, despite everything that had happened, she just couldn't hate her. That girl, unpolished and utterly _normal_ had stolen her husband. She ought to be a social outcast, brandished with a scarlet letter 'A' and maybe even arrested for having slept with a married man! _Ought to. _ But seeing that picture, all Laura felt was pity.

It was tragic, almost. Look what love had done to that girl! Love and tabloid magazines.

Damn it, she thought and grabbed the magazine, giving in to her urge of needing to know what other pictures of Jude where featured. As she skimmed through pages of lies and overdramatic headlines, she remembered how she had first met her at G-Major. She hadn't liked her much. But, honestly, she hadn't liked any female within a fifty yard reach of her husband at that time. Then, once she'd gotten to know her, she hadn't liked her not because she was a woman, but because she was so not what she'd expected her to be. She wasn't greedy or vain. Only eager to be a good employee. And a loyal one, too. And then, when she should have not liked Jude because the girl had fallen in love with her husband, she had respected her and come to like her for her honesty and upstanding behavior.

Then Jude had slept with Tommy.

And sympathy had set in. A little hate, maybe. Anger, certainly. But mostly pity and compassion. That girl hadn't stood a chance against Tommy.

Him, she had no trouble hating at all!

"Hey, you gonna pay for that?"

Looking up from a glossy array of very unfortunate pictures of Jude Harrison, Laura shot the shop owner of the shop a short glare while handing over two dollars. "Keep the change," she snapped, "you'll need it!"

"Bitch," she heard him hissing under his breath.

Another glare and she turned around, walking towards her car when...

"OUCH!" Having bumped head-first into some other guy, she hit his chest before even realizing who the person actually was. When she did, she smiled and kicked his shin. While childish and silly, he did deserve it. "Morning, Tom."

"Fuck," he wheezed, bent over holding his leg. "Damn it, Laura, that hurt! You're wearing platform heels. I'm probably bleeding right now!"

"I hope you are. If not, I'll be happy to kick you again. Maybe a little higher this time. To render you impotent. What a prospect," she mused, smirking when he took a big step backwards. "You're actually scared of me? I feel flattered."

She watched him, waiting for a rebuttal, but none came. He just stared back at her. "What's wrong. Swallowed your tongue? Afraid I'll bite it off?"

Nothing.

Laura sighed. "Christ, Tom. This isn't fun if you don't play along. How am I supposed to know whether I rendered you speechless if you don't say a word to begin with! You know how much I love a good verbal fight. We used to be so good at that."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, almost helplessly.

"You better be!"

"No, I mean," he all but stuttered, "about everything that I did to you. About all the bad things that I put you through. I feel bad for every tear that I made you cry. I was such an ungrateful person and I had didn't treat you the way—"

"Shut up."

He blinked. "Excuse me, I'm trying to apologize here!"

"I heard. And I'm telling you to stop. I really don't care, Tom."

"But I broke your heart. You deserve an apology. You deserved one a long time ago."

"I deserved someone who wouldn't break my heart. But I got you instead. I mean it, Tom: I don't want you to apologize! You cheated twice, broke my heard deliberately and carelessly at the same time and you had the guts to blame the end of our marriage on me. You're about as sorry as thief is for winding up in jail. You don't regret the crime. You just don't like being punished for it."

Feeling challenged, Tommy assured, "that's not it! It might have been like that _once_, but not anymore. I wouldn't cheat on you again. I learned my lesson!"

She coughed out a chuckle but since she had some time to spare she decided to play along and see what where he'd take this. "Okay, okay. Let's assume for a moment I actually believe that. What lesson would you have learned?"

"That I hurt you. And that that's bad."

"And …?"

"That's the reason I wouldn't cheat on you again!"

She could actually see how his brain was struggling to keep up. "You knew I would be hurt when you slept with Jude. Because I was hurt after the first time you cheated on me."

"Exactly." Tommy thought about it for a second. "Only this time I really know. And we're not together anymore so …"

"So," Laura finished for him, "the next time you'll cheat, it's not me that will be hurt but Jude. But that's a lesson still ahead of you and I'm sure you'll learn it AFTER you commit the next crime! But hey, you really thought about your wrongdoings! Be proud of yourself, Tom. You screwed up and you know it!"

"Are you mocking me?"

"You really don't need me for that."

"I AM sorry."

"And I DON'T believe you. So please stop apologizing!"

"Why won't you believe me?"

"Because you're entirely too self-absorbed to grasp the concept of actually being sorry! Exhibit A: You sent Jude's sister, out of all the people in the world, to apologize in your name. Classy! Exhibit B: You don't even know what you're sorry for! And lastly, you haven't learned a single thing!" She held up the tabloid. "Exhibit C: You're happy again. Why look around you?!" Shoving the tabloid into his hand, she took a step back and adjusted her outfit. A way of releasing all that rage inside her. "I believe they call it the _heroin look_," Laura said, meaning Jude's appearance on page one. "I ran into Mitch the other day. He said you were at a lot of parties lately. _Alone_. Does Jude know?"

Something snapped in Tommy and he took a threatening step towards his still-wife. "You don't know what you're talking about. I want Jude there," he stated vigorously. "She's the one saying 'no' when I ask. I AM sorry for what I did but if you don't care, why should I? And now excuse me! I have a date with Jude! My girlfriend!"

As she watched him walk away, a snide, "Sorry – as if!" escaped her lips. Screw him, she thought.

x

x

x

"The song you wrote for us, it's amazing." Vincent Spiederman, one of Jude's best friends from school, smiled at the piece of paper in front of him. Sitting in a rented rehearsal space not far from G-Major, Vincent, called 'Spied' by his friends, was preparing along with two friends for their next big step: a career in North America. They had gotten a record deal from Chaz Blackburn, who might be a former boy-bander but who also had surprisingly good instincts about music. That, his sexy secretary and the promise of never turning them into a _Pop Sensation _had been good arguments to sign. "We still need a lead singer, though. I'm a guitar player, not a lead singer. You'd be perfect for the job. Have you decided yet?"

Jude shook her head as she sipped on her Slim-Fast shake. That thing tasted awkward at best, hardly sated her but at least worked as promised. Well, maybe the five miles she had begun running every morning were helping as well. "I can't. I want to, but ... so much has happened. So much you've no idea about. Going to New York, singing, risking to fail—"

"You still have two weeks."

She smiled, flattered by his determination. It wasn't really the fear of failing that held her back. It was the fright of being successful. Of getting everything she ever wanted. Since dating Tommy, she wondered if _Everything She Ever Wanted_ wouldn't become another nightmare. Even if she could face her past, get over everything that happened years ago with Portia, could she stand at becoming even more famous? She was already fighting hard to survive and as 'only' Tommy's girlfriend she wasn't even that sought after. On center stage, her fame would multiply by a dozen.

"You're a born star," Spied encouraged.

Jude took a sip from her diet shake, shaking her head. "Trust me, I'm not." She had the headlines to prove it! "People really don't like me that much."

"Cause the only thing they know about you is that you had sex with a married man. If they knew who you really are—"

"God knows what they would write then," Jude quipped, trying to lighten the mood and changing the topic. "Two weeks. That's what you said. Let's rest it until then." Her cell phone chimed. A text from Tommy. "Great," she murmured. "He wants to take me out to dinner tonight. To talk." Gulping down the rest of the shake in one move, Jude got up and gathered her things. "Thanks for letting me hide here. It's the one place the photographers haven't found out about, yet."

x

x

x

"My boyfriend wants to take me out to dinner tonight. I need something simple. I wore a dress two times in a row and the tabloids crucified me for it. Do you have anything simple and, like, new?" Jude stood in the middle of an exclusive couture shop, a place she'd normally never enter, praying to find something fast. Something that fit. Unlike the last time she was here. Apparently Zero is the new Two and only people who don't eat anything wear Zero. Hence the running and the diet shakes.

"Something in grey, maybe? It hides the … _curves_."

She shrugged, not even surprised by the stinging remark. Whatever got her out of here in no time, she was grateful for. Even if it was just a thousand dollar potato bag to hide the curves that she doubted could be considered curves at all. It wasn't that criticism was new to her. She'd gotten her taste of it during the brief time she was fake-dating Shay. But as Tommy's girlfriend – as the girlfriend he'd left his wife, a supermodel, for – everything had gotten worse. Everywhere she went she was being rated. Pretty. Fat. Smart. Stupid. Dressed good. Dressed bad. Right hair. Horrible hair. Too little makeup. Too much makeup. Just once she wanted to pass a newsstand and not see a single word written about her. Just one time. One day. To collect new strength. To be herself.

"You need shoes with that? Your current pair is a little … _last season_."

That had also become normality. Short heavy pauses, followed by a prettified term from someone who meant to say she looked like an idiot.

"Simple pumps would be nice."

"Sure. Let's see if we have something _simple_."

To make matters worse, upon glancing out the window, she saw two guys she'd discovered worked for The National Inquirer. The paparazzi had arrived. Jude took the grey dress the saleswoman handed her and spent the next thirty minutes in the changing cabin, not trying on the dress but hiding and breathing deeply, playing Angry Birds on her phone and listening to soothing sounds from Kurt Cobain who, like no other, seemed to understand her. Two people, simply wanting to live and love and make music, trapped in the circus that came with it.

Would New York be different? She kept wondering that.

x

x

x

"Not good enough?" Jude fidgeted at the lapel of her dress, wondering if blue or green might not have made a better choice, combined with Tommy's effortless style of jeans and leather jackets. Barely touching the food in front of her, she constantly snuck glances around, practically searching for the paparazzi that she knew were here, even if she hadn't spotted them yet.

Tommy took her hand in his. "Jude, you look great. I mean, the dress looks nice." Ugly, actually. But he'd never say that to her. "I'm worried about you, though." Angered that it had taken a snide remark from Laura to pay attention, he did however see what she had alluded at: Jude had lost weight, gotten paler and her eyes looked more tired than ever. "There are some headlines out there ..." He had read up on them and been shocked to find that she was on every cover, every week, every issue. "You know that those tabloids don't matter to me, right? They don't matter at all," he stressed. "That's dirt. Unimportant."

She smiled, absentmindedly nodding. "Yeah, I'm not really paying attention to them anyway."

"Really?" He didn't believe her. "I can't force you not to read them. I can just ask you not to."

"Tommy, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine. You look exhausted."

Well, she was. Nice that he noticed. Life in the center of attention was hard. Taking slow, deliberate breaths to control her emotions, to control herself and not break down sobbing, whining about life in public and the fact that she was still the number one topic with every gossiper, she finally took a bigger bite of food. She couldn't remember the moment when her inner tranquility had emigrated and left her with nothing but confusion and the urge to please others. She hated what she'd become during those last weeks. And yet, she didn't know how not to be like this. Because the second she started being herself, a whole bunch of news outlets called her arrogant for ignoring what they were writing about her. When she did not ignore their stories on her, but took them to heart, they said she was cracking under the pressure. Who the hell was supposed to know how to be what everyone wanted and be one's self as well! When Tommy's worried glances intensified, she flashed a broad smile. "This is good."

"It's Tofu. I wasn't aware you like it. I'm surprised you even ordered it."

She was, too. Then again, she barely noticed the taste. On his left, right behind a decorative pillar was _Crazy Dude_, as she'd begun calling one of the more vicious paparazzi. He wasn't using the super cameras with the mile-long lens that everyone else carried around. He used a cellphone and with that managed to spot her inside stores and restaurants where other photographers weren't allowed to enter. "Yummy," she assured, smiling, not sure whom she was putting up the show for, Tommy or _Crazy Dude_.

"Kwest is celebrating his birthday next week. You'll come, right? I know you been busy a lot lately." At least that's what she told him every time he wanted her to accompany him to an event. "He specifically asked for you." Placing a peck on the back of her hand, Tommy smiled lovingly at her. "Jude, I really want you to be there with me. It's not going to be a huge party. A small get together. Some of the people you've met the other night." More precisely, the one party she'd gone to with him.

Gulping down some water, she nodded. "Yeah, sure." Damn! Kwest was a friend. She had to go this time.

"Babe, promise me you're not lying! Are you really okay?"

"Tommy I'm fine. I promise." To defer his worries, she slipped one foot out of her pump – a simple black sling pump that the saleswoman had found _somewhere in the storage room_ and caressed his ankle, appreciating his immediate change of demeanor, away from the worried boyfriend towards the flirty boyfriend. "I'm wearing new underwear. Lace. Red," she mouthed.

He grinned happily. "Let's skip dessert then."

x

x

x

As he was carrying her into his hotel room, Tommy realized not for the first time how light she'd gotten. His hands thumbs and fingertips almost touched when spanning her waist and her rips were protruding slightly more than before. She'd always been skinny but now it was becoming obvious. Too obvious, he'd say. Laura, as a model, had been slim. But even she had never given in to the scary thin standards of some designers. Jude was beginning to look like their ideal pick. "Girl," he whispered, torn between arousal and her thinness, "you need to eat more!"

She leaned back, pushed his head from her neck and stared at him. "If that's your idea of dirty talking ..."

He smiled slightly, not wanting to start an argument. "Just saying, you lost some weight."

"Not that much," she defended herself. "Just a little. It was necessary."

His hands dropping from her waist, he frowned. "What?"

"To fit into the clothes." She tugged on her dress. "These things don't come in a size four or bigger."

"So don't buy them! I liked how you looked in jeans and sweaters."

She stripped off the dress and kicked the pumps away, flashing him with a red ensemble of flimsy lingerie. "Do you want to discuss my weight or have sex?"

Scoffing, he crossed his arms. "Have you looked into a mirror lately?" In stark light, with nothing on, it became blatantly undeniable to him that Jude wasn't okay and that Laura had been right. Those two things were enough to ruin his mood and make him edgy but the fact that Jude didn't even realize it, or at least get that it was wrong to bend for anyone made him even more angry. He should have noticed the changes before. But she'd always come to him in the dark, with all the lights off. Now he wondered if she'd done it on purpose.

"Fine," she snapped, "if you want, I'll eat two burgers every day from now on."

"I would very much appreciate that!"

"Can we have sex now?" Speaking about it made her uncomfortable.

"Are you kidding me?"

She didn't want to talk. She couldn't talk. What for? He didn't understand her. He had no idea how her life was. What pressure she was put under! She'd worked her butt off – literally! – to fit into his word and into her new clothes and he was what? Angry? How dare he! She'd shed sweat and tears and he didn't have the decency to show some respect for that? Apparently the world he lived in was very different from the world she was shoved into. Otherwise he'd know how she felt! "I'm getting tired, Tommy. I'm going home."

With a snort, he grabbed a hold of her bag as she got dressed, trying to hold on to it as leverage to make her stay. But he held it the wrong way and some of its contents dropped to the floor. Cigarettes were among those things.

"Since when do you smoke?"

Jude met his eyes, startled, caught, feeling ashamed she'd started it to … well, she didn't really know why she'd begun smoking. One day she just had. "I …"

"You what?" he pressed.

"Nothing!" She grabbed her bag, the cigarettes and her jacket. Then she left.

x

x

x

"_Jude Harrison – Crying in the rain!"_

With a heavy sigh Jude read the next morning's headlines. After storming out of Tommy's hotel, she'd collapsed on the sidewalk on her way home, in the rain, kneeling, crying, sobbing actually. She should have known it was a mistake to display her emotions so publicly, but in that second she hadn't been able to control herself. All the work to please as Tommy's girlfriend and he had nothing better to do than scold her for it. Didn't he know how much effort, how much energy she'd put into being a good girlfriend? Someone he didn't have to be ashamed of? All she wanted was to fit in. Because if she was one of them, then she wouldn't stick out anymore and maybe then some of the paparazzi would find a new target. But instead of helping her, he'd attacked her.

And he hadn't even apologized or called.

Stupid boyfriend!

"Jude?"

"What?!" She snapped, not in the mood to pretend being fine and happy.

Sadie warily entered, worriedly carrying another mug of hot chocolate. She spotted the tabloid on her sister's lap and smiled sympathetically. "Bad date with Tommy?"

"More like bad couple of weeks. Why do you keep bringing me hot chocolate? Two mugs, every day?"

Unsure how to broach it, she shrugged. "You love chocolate." That and Sadie had noticed Jude's loss of weight as well.

Jude rolled her eyes, perfectly able to read her sister's thoughts on this occasion. "I'm not anorexic."

"I didn't say that. I'm just worried," she admitted.

"Stop, okay?" She jumped up, tossing away the tabloid. "Stop worrying about me! Everyone, everywhere, is constantly worrying about me. I'm everywhere! They write stories about me! They speculate! They gossip! They assume! They snap millions and millions of pictures! I'm full of it! I'm done! I want it to stop! There are 7 billion people on this godforsaken earth and nobody is more interesting than me?!" Slamming the door shut behind her, Jude was downstairs and out of the house before Sadie even had a chance to follow.

x

x

x

"I don't have a problem." Jude stood in front of Tommy's door, slightly startled he'd opened it within seconds, almost as if he'd waited for her. "All I wanted was to fit in. I'm sorry if I went a little far." She held up a paper bag, with the McDonalds-label. "I ate two Happy Meals today. Can I come in?"

He didn't say anything but opened the door wider, granting her access. "I don't want you to fit in. I want you to stay yourself." Then he kissed her cheek. "I saw the pictures from last night. I think we need to talk."

"Last night was a bad night. I had, like, a bad day. Really, Tommy, I'm fine. I stumbled. Then I hurt my knee and because we had fought, I cried a little. The tabloids blew it all out of proportion! By the way, I threw away the cigarettes."

"Good! Cause those are really bad for your voice."

Jude ground her teeth. Yeah, her voice really was important! Screw the reasons she'd begun smoking in the first place! But who wants a raspy voice! But she remained apologetic and didn't say anything. She'd come here to apologize, to make up and convince him that everything was okay. With everything going on, relationship-drama was the last thing she needed right now. And if she had to lie a little to make him believe that, so be it!

Tommy took a seat on the couch. "When we met, you were so confident. So strong-willed! What happened to that girl? I would have never thought some bad headlines can make you tumble."

Jude balled her hands into fists, behind her back, not to let him see. Did he have any idea how much will it required to lose ten pounds in two weeks? When she lay awake at night, with a rumbling stomach, and gripped her bed sheet to keep from running downstairs and attacking the fridge, it took extraordinary willpower! If anything, she was even more strong-willed! Oh, and 'some bad headlines'? He could swallow that line and choke on it! They weren't writing a bit of nonsense about her but constantly, non-stop, repeatedly and voraciously lying, commenting and bating her with stories that ranged from drug abuse to abortions. He might not want to see it, but 'some bad headlines' are the reason she barely slept at night anymore. But she didn't tell him that. "I guess I let some of the stupid things just get to me."

"Like what? That you're fat? That's crap. The same goes for the pregnancy rumors, the story about me only wanting you for sex and pretty much everything else they wrote. You know why I want to be with you."

"Do I? Because I honestly don't know that," she blurted out. "I don't get why you would pick me over someone like Laura. No one of your friends likes me. All of the women in your life hate me." Sure, she had only one party as a reference point but she was certain none of his friends would have warmed up to her no matter how many parties she'd attended with him. And even if they had, it made no difference. "Your boss hates me. The tabloids hate me. I'm practically an unemployed girl who gets out of school in two weeks and has no idea what to do then. Why would you want to spend time with me?"

He couldn't believe what she was saying. He'd realized how much her life had become focused on tabloids and public life, but he hadn't believed she actually struggled so badly. "Jude," he whispered, getting off the couch and in front of her, cupping her face. "You're the girl that makes my heart beat faster. When you smile at me, everything else ceases to exist. Nobody has ever made me feel that way." Then his lips touched hers, gently, trying to mend and heal. "You knocked me out of my socks, girl." A deeper kiss followed. And another one. And then they were in his bedroom, undressed, joined, making languid love in the bright daylight. As his lips ventured across her skin, they got to know every spot of her body that had lost its curve or its fill. But he held his tongue, no matter how worried he was. This wasn't about making her realize her scary state. This was about showing her how much he wanted her, and not just that. This was to appreciate, to connect, to remind them both that there was a reason they were together.

In his arms he felt her give in to him, to let go of everything. She wasn't shy or reluctant but open and giving and so responsive to his caresses. It were these moments that he treasured the most, not because of the sex they were enjoying but because of their privacy. It was just them, and nobody else. And it was good.

And when the act was finished and she curled up along his side, he didn't let her go, but held her. He wanted her to feel warm and safe, hoping she could take a little of that feeling with her, when she'd have to enter the real world again.

x

x

x

Jude gently lifted her head, carefully turning in his embrace, making sure he remained at sleep. This was easier when she was alone, and didn't have to explain. Slipping out of the bed, from beneath silk covers, into the darkness, she crept into the living room. On the way there she swept up Tommy's discarded shirt and put it on. It was so big, reaching her thighs. In the middle of the floor she spotted her bag, snuck a glance over her shoulder, to make sure he was still asleep and then, as silently and catlike as possible, searched for the laxatives she carried around these days.

Then she went into the bathroom.

While she appreciated the fact that he'd assured her of his feelings for her and that her looks weren't important to him, she didn't fool herself. He did love it when she dressed up in sexy dresses and those dresses didn't come in big sizes. And it also didn't matter that he avoided reading tabloid magazines. Everyone else did. She swallowed two pills and drowned them with water, closing her eyes and holding her stomach as the latter began to rumble. She had not eaten two Happy Meals earlier. She'd gotten an empty bag, to ease his mind. All she had eaten were a few dry rice crackers and a handful of Tic Tacs. And two gums. Sugar free.

Yes, she said silently, as she gazed into the mirror. She was strong-willed. Who needed food? Certainly she didn't.

Turning the shower on and slipping out of his shirt again, placing it in front of the door on the floor, so he wouldn't feel the intruding cold night air sweeping through the room and awaken, Jude reached into her bag, retrieved her cigarettes from a hidden pocket and then opened the small window to take a smoke. At four thirty in the morning it was so dark she could barely see across the street. Tommy's hotel room was one of the few that actually had a bathroom window and she was glad he didn't care for the extra dollars it cost him. Otherwise this would have been a little more difficult.

Naked, but hidden in the dark of the room, she didn't care that she was covered in chills. Her fingertips were almost shaking, but she liked the odd feeling. If only this could be her life, she wished. Hidden in a dark corner of the world, not scared, but at ease, because it was just her and nobody else there to criticize or complain. But she would be alone. And that wasn't a nice feeling either. Now that Tommy had entered her life, she had begun to like not being alone, but with him. He made her feel safe. If only he'd be there all the time.

"Jude?"

Dammit, he'd awoken. "Shower," she called and tossed the cigarette out of the window before closing it silently. Then she quickly jumped inside the shower stall and out, to wet herself. She grabbed a towel, kicked the shirt away from the door and smiled at him when he entered, stark naked.

"You shower in the middle of the night?" Pecking her head, he was taken aback by the coldness of her skin. "Did you shower in cold water? You're freezing!"

Jude relished the feeling of his embrace, when he wrapped his arms around her and brought her back to bed. She savored the warmth of his breath when he placed kisses on her neck. And she was grateful he didn't say anything when he kissed her and undoubtedly tasted that she had smoked a cigarette because she'd forgotten to have a gum first.

Damnit!

Well, tomorrow, she'd not forget to take one. She was getting better at this with every new day.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 21: An Offer You Can't Refuse!

Sadie was continually fidgeting at her skirt, always tugging it into place, making sure repeatedly that no unnecessary inch was exposed. Normally she cared less. Besides, she wasn't wearing some ultra short version but a decent one. But, given all their onlookers… There was something extremely unnerving about constant observation, more so when the observers had cameras and weren't afraid to use them. "What do they want?" She complained to her sister, who was in front of her, paying for Kwest's birthday present. "It's not like Tommy's here! Just us. We're boring."

Jude barely shrugged before checking the time. "Don't worry. In ten minutes half of them will vanish. There's a Justin Bieber concert tonight and Tommy said he'll arrive half an hour from now at the airport. Most of the paparazzi will go to find him. And the other half with take a lunch break."

"How do you know?"

"Cause we will. I'm hungry. You too?"

Sadie paused. "You eat in front of them? I'd be too tempted to toss my food at them!"

"Trust me, I'd prefer that too." But since she hadn't eaten in front of the paparazzi for half a week, the anorexia rumors had resurfaced. She'd been so sure of having crushed them after walking through town with a McDonalds paper bag, when she'd been on her way to Tommy's, last week. But no, rumors had a half-life and the second she gave them a chance, they resurfaced, stronger and more vicious than ever. So she'd have to eat an entire burger or something like that, to give those hyenas a chance to write a different lie instead.

That also meant that she'd have to spend the next two days making up for eating so much by only eating those dreaded rice crackers! Which in itself was hard enough. Tomorrow, however, was Kwest's birthday where she expected a big buffet. But she could probably out-sail that issue by faking a slight stomach bug. That would satisfy Tommy and Sadie, who still watched with extra-care every time she passed a fridge or a full plate of food. And, it would give her an excuse to leave early. She hoped the gossipers would not blabber in earshot of Sadie, who had a knack for sticking up for her. Nice as this might be, sisterly-love wise, it was discomforting because it only served for more gossip. _The poor young Harrison. Fat and weak AND unable to fight her own battles!_ Jude could already hear the whispers.

Meanwhile they had found a place in the food court. "You have a dress yet?" Sadie scanned the menu for a low-fat salad. Jude had already settled on french-fries. "I went to this one place Lau- uh, this friend of mine told me about, where you can buy really cheap designer dresses. But they were all too small. Apparently they come fresh off the runway. It's really scary how thin some of these models are!"

"Yeah!" Jude nodded vigorously, taking a small victory out of the fact that she'd be wearing an original Marc Jacobs runway dress that some famous model had worn before her. It was too tight, as her stylist had said, to fit most of the women who wanted it. It fit Jude perfectly, aside from being a few inches too long. "I got this, um, blue dress from my stylist."

"Stylist?" Sadie gaped. "Since when do you have a stylist? And how come I only just find out about this?"

Because it was extremely humiliating that she needed one. But that's what Darius and Portia had suggested, when the former had also highlighted that Portia would be perfect for the job. Jude, seeing Portia's odd expression and fearing the worst, had agreed on the terms that she could chose anyone _but_ D's sister. "Apparently my style isn't good enough and Darius, fearing even more bad publicity for G-Major, agreed to hire one. It's not mine exclusively. But whenever I go somewhere that requires an invitation I'm supposed to get fashion approval from the stylist first."

"Ah. And you just accepted that? I used to tell you all the time how crappy your band-shirts look. You never listened to me! Which, secretly, I actually liked. You were you."

"Yeah, well, now I'm a girl who knows that grey and black doesn't suit her taint and that blue and red take the attention away from her too big lips and bad hair. Can we drop this? I can get you a dress if you want."

"How? Will you just go and call your stylist for me? Ask for a dress for your sister who can't find one on her own? No thanks!"

"I just offered to help. No need to snap at me!"

"I don't want someone telling me how certain colors don't suit me. And if silver and yellow are bad for _my_ taint, I'll just wear both colors in spite of it."

"Okay!" Jude raised her hands in surrender. "Jeez, calm down!"

"I can't believe you, Jude!"

"I only wanted to help," she repeated with annoyance.

Sadie shook her head. "You don't even realize. Somebody told you to dress differently and you just do it! Why didn't just walk out on Darius?"

"I …" Jude wished she knew. Accepting a stylist seemed a good idea. She had troubles pleasing the public with her outfits and a professional could certainly help her with that. Also, she hated going to designer stores to shop for dresses because of the paparazzi that always found her there. With a stylist, she could just pick a dress in the safe space of her living room. Or Tommy's living room, because she didn't want the stylist in her house. That was the one place in her life where everything had not changed and she was determined to keep it that way. "Food is here. Let's drop this, _please_."

Sadie shrugged. "Whatever. Not like my opinion matters anyway, right?"

"Sadie!"

"No, you're right, Jude. Let's drop this. I wanted to spend some time with you. Not fight. And if we keep talking about this, I swear to God we will do exactly that." It outraged her that Jude was giving up everything that made her who she was. And she couldn't even blame Tommy for it, because, as he'd told her yesterday, he was as worried as she was.

x

x

x

"Well … this is … quite a place ..." 'Place' was hardly a fitting term to describe her current surroundings. 'Taj Mahal' might be a better fit. Everything was huge and sparkly and gold-trimmed.

"It's tacky, I know." Tommy grabbed her hand. "But once it's redecorated, it'll be perfect. And it's not that big. Really. Three bedrooms and two bathrooms are standard these days. I was looking for a bigger space but my real estate agent couldn't find anything that seemed right. For now this will do. I'm tired of living in a hotel room. I want my privacy back."

Jude swallowed a scoff, murmuring, "Yeah because in a three-room hotel suite with 24hour security and two former police men guarding the premises, privacy is the one thing you don't have!"

He raised a brow at her snarky reply but didn't say anything.

Her eyes kept roaming the apartment he had chosen, skeptically taking everything in. "I liked your old apartment."

"I liked it too," he agreed, his voice stiffening slightly. "But my lawyer said it would take a year at least to get Laura out of it. I have no intention of spending that time in a small hotel room."

"Again, _three rooms_," Jude mumbled.

"Of whom one is a bathroom and one a living room," Tommy countered, wondering this time, "Are you okay? If you don't like it, say it!"

She doubted he meant it, but when he added, "I really want your opinion. Your honest one," she didn't hold back. "This place is a joke, Tommy! Three bedrooms and two bathrooms? The hallway alone is bigger than my entire living room! The windows are remote controlled! The kitchen is big enough to be a restaurant and the floor is covered in pink marble!"

"Told you, it's getting redecorated!"

"Pink marble! You're standing on _pink marble_!"

"I will get rid of it!" His stated. Ardently.

The mere idea of it made her skin crawl. "How much is the rent?"

"Not that high."

"How much," she insisted.

"Ten."

"Ten … dollars a day?"

"Ten thousand dollars. Monthly."

"You are kidding me!"

Tommy was slightly confused why she made such a big deal of it. "I can easily afford it, Jude. I'm not living on the edge of ruin."

"I gotta sit down." And she did, right on the back of a life-sized marble panther.

"Are you really freaked out because I'd have to pay that much money for an apartment?"

"No," she admitted, audibly shocked. This was just the straw that broke the camel's back, so to say. Wasting money seemed to be this day's motto. This morning she'd gotten a letter from her bank listing up last month's expenses and she'd spent over five thousand dollars on dresses and clothes, on sunglasses and shoes, and on a bunch of other stuff she didn't even remember buying. But what had shocked her the most was that her account was still in the positive, with more than fifteen thousand dollars. She had never earned that money and when she'd called the bank to ask where it had come from, they said it had come with her last paycheck. Only that she knew that couldn't be true because she hadn't shown up for work at G-Major in weeks. So she'd called Darius, who'd informed her that he'd sold tidbits of information of her to certain news outlets. That's where the money came from. She made money by making headlines while trying anything not to do exactly that. Then Darius had told her if she'd be a little more famous she could make ten times that money. Like Tommy did.

Jude met his eyes, worried and startled at the same time. "I just realized you're making a damn good living out of being who you are. We both do, actually. We complain all the time about paparazzi and reporters and tidbits about our private life that end up in tabloids. But that's what's paying your rent and my bills."

"No," he assured. "I'm making my money as a producer and you are ..." He hesitated.

"I'm a very profitable headline, apparently." It was no surprise he couldn't say what she was earning her living with. She _was_ out of work. She just hadn't realized because her bank-account was still filled with money! "And you're making your money as a producer _now_. But you became rich being a star. You earned truckloads of money by being on page one." Her voice rose as her eyes took another glance around the place. "It's a vicious cycle!" She said angrily. "I've been running and running only to realize I'll never be fast enough and now I'm swimming and floating but there's a weight at my ankle pulling me down and every time I reach the surface another weight comes along, dragging me down all over again. And while I'm struggling for breath, desperately clinging to everything around me, I feel like there are a million crows flying above me only waiting to attack! How will I ever get the press to shut up about me if I need them to pay my bills? Tommy, I can't do this anymore! I'm sick and tired of—"

"Knock, knock!"

Just as Jude was about to explain, the real estate agent showed up, asking Tommy about the apartment and whether he wanted to rent it. He had to answer. That's what they were here for in the first place. But while he reported on what he imagined the redecoration would look like and how much garage space he'd need, he saw Jude slipping out of the door, waving a short goodbye. He'd not find her at his car later, he knew.

She had a habit of disappearing, every time he was close to finding out what was going on in her head. Luckily he'd see her again later that day, on Kwest's party. She'd promised his friend to come. She'd promised him to come. Although alone. Something about avoiding the reporters. He was just happy she was going at all.

"The apartment, Mr. Quincy. Yes or no?"

Tommy reverted his attention to the real estate agent and gave an apologetic look. "No. I'm sorry. I know I said I'd take it, but … it's not the right place after all."

x

x

x

"Sorry. Had to go. See you later."

Jude hit the send-button as she jumped into the cab, speeding off to the rehearsal space occupied by her friends. At least it used to be occupied. Now they were preparing for their big move to New York. Leaving tonight, earlier than initially planned, they had asked her to come by earlier to say goodbye. Kwest's party was important too and Jude had a feeling she'd just make another headline if she was seen at the airport hugging a bunch of young men that weren't Tommy. And since the latter didn't know about her friends either, she'd also have to explain to him why she'd been there.

Saying goodbye now was just so much easier.

When she arrived at their door, she found it open and the place emptied out. Her three friends were sitting on an old couch that had been here before and would probably remain there for a long time. "You're late."

"Sorry," Jude said, already on the verge of crying. While she'd never been best friends with the guys, they had always understood each other. It was a musician-thing. And now they were flying away to make their dreams come true while she … Jude sighed and shook her head, ridding herself of any depressing thoughts. After her almost-breakdown in Tommy's maybe-new apartment, she recklessly did so, not daring to think of what she'd said and implied, afraid of what it meant and what it would do to her. Instead, as constantly lately, she forced out a big smile. "I'm sorry. I was stuck at the Taj Mahal." Their frowns she responded to with a trained grin. Jokes always worked to distract people. "Long story. Too long. Maybe another time. So you're ready and packed? I'm really happy for you!"

"Thanks, Jude." Wally and Kyle hugged her firmly. "We'll invite you as soon as we've settled down. And of course when we play our first concert. And start our first tour!"

Jude couldn't help but feel genuinely happy for them. "I should hope so."

Vincent Spiederman remained sitting on the couch when his band-mates made their way downstairs. He patted on the seat next to him. He was not as easily distracted by jokes like his friends. "One word. That's all it takes to come along. Chaz will be thrilled and so would we. New York, Jude. When nobody was taking us seriously, you said we'd be there one day. Playing in the old punk clubs and eventually filling the arenas. And after you stopped playing, you still stood up for us. This is your band as much as it's mine. You deserve to be with us on the way up. And I don't believe you when you say you don't want that too. You're scared and I understand. But one day you will have to face your fears and this, right now, is the perfect moment to start!"

"Spied-"

"No. I can see it in your eyes. You're unhappy." He took her hand and held it firmly. Then he placed an envelop into her other one. "Whatever you're going to say, I won't believe it anyway. In your heart, locked away far too deep, is a voice that's screaming 'yes' right now. And unless that's the word you'll say next, I don't want to hear another one. See you, Jude." With that he walked out, leaving her behind puzzled and lost.

She was about to open the envelope when her phone went off.

"Don't freak out," Sadie pleaded, skipping past hellos. "But I was talking to Kwest a minute ago and he told me who'd be there at his party. Laura is coming. And Portia. They both only just got back at him so there was no way he could have known. And he can't un-invite them because he's friends with Laura and Portia is after all D's sister. I just wanted to let you know. Give you a warning."

Jude nodded. "Thanks, Sadie." It wasn't a shock to her. She'd figured as much. Which was one of the reasons she hadn't wanted to go in the first place. Checking the time, she cursed silently. Running late already! With no further delay she stuffed the envelope into her bag and hurried home, once more locking away emotions and thoughts. One day she would have time to pay attention to them. But not now.

x

x

x

Heavy basses and fast tracks were playing when she slipped inside through the backdoor of the club. The place was still empty and she was glad for that. It meant that most of the people were outside, getting themselves photographed by paparazzi, who doubtlessly were there, considering the impressive guest list. While Tommy's party had been carefully built to include all business partners, Kwest actually had that many celebrity friends. Tommy might be the producer but when the 'nice' part of producing was done, it was Kwest who spent the most time with the artists, doing the dirty work.

Tugging on the edges of her dress, Jude was happy to have picked a blue one. With the lighting and the interior inside the club, it helped her become almost invisible and she liked that feeling. This party wasn't about her, nor her and Tommy and certainly not about her and Laura. It was about Kwest and the less people noticed her attendance, the better. After a quick trip to the bar to get her signature colorful cocktail – her favorite accessory because it offered something to direct her attention at – she found a quiet place in the far back of the club, where the lights were dimmed. Here she'd wait for Tommy, talk to him and maybe dance a bit with him, before going with her previously chosen strategy of faking a stomach bug once the buffet would open. Summed up, that meant, in two hours she'd be on her way home. She was counting the minutes.

Even more so when she saw Laura slipping in, entering through the same backdoor Jude had arrived through. Apparently she wasn't the only one hoping to go unnoticed. And of course, as luck had made a habit of deserting her, Laura immediately spotted Jude. Then again, with barely a dozen people inside the club, it wasn't hard.

But Jude did not receive an icy glare, or even a subtle snide remark, as she'd half expected. Instead there was something eerily unsettling in Laura's eyes. If she didn't know better, Jude would almost say Tommy's still-wife appeared worried. But about what?

"Here you are!"

Jude blinked, and when she looked again, Laura was gone. She smiled at Tommy instead, who sat down next to her. "I was hoping you'd call or come by before the party. We got interrupted earlier. You wanted to tell me something." Apparently he hadn't forgotten it, Jude realized and grew uneasy. More so when he took her hand. "You said you couldn't do it anymore. What exactly can't you do anymore? I'm sick of you always running away from me. Talk to me. Explain things!"

"During a party?" She shifted, making him loosen his hold on her hand. "Later, or tomorrow. This really isn't the right moment. And besides," Jude highlighted, "I didn't even mean what I said. I didn't sleep well last night and—"

"Bullshit. Don't think for a second I'm stupid, Jude. You have problems and you're not letting me help you!"

Her foot tapped on the floor hard and fast. She was nervous and felt pressured. "Tommy not now!"

"If you don't want to talk here, then let's go home. Kwest will understand!"

"It's his birthday party. Don't be silly." The tapping intensified.

Tommy shook his head and scooted closer, lowering his voice while leaning into her. "I'm serious, Jude. We will talk tonight. I let you slip away earlier. I'm not letting you do it again."

Placing her arm between him and her side, almost pushing him back, she met his eyes with a fierce glare. "Not now!"

"We _have_ to talk!"

"But not NOW!"

"Hey, man!"

Jude rolled her eyes and immediately got up, strangely grateful for this intrusion, annoying though that person was.

"Your name was June, right?"

"Her name is Jude. It's not that hard to remember," Tommy snapped, on the edge of his seat to grab Jude's hand, not letting her hurry away. "I don't have time, Mitch."

Jude spun around and deftly pulled her arm free. "Actually he has."

"Jude!"

"Not. Now." And that was the last she said before disappearing.

Dammit, Jude thought, as she all but ran towards the ladies' room. She should have guarded her emotions more carefully earlier that day. If she hadn't allowed her shock and anger over her current money situation get the best of her, he'd not be asking questions now. If only she'd not been so outraged by the fact that she made a lot of money with each time her name got mentioned somewhere. She didn't want that money and yet she needed it, because without it, she wouldn't be able to afford the new dresses she'd been wearing lately whenever she went to a dinner with Tommy. And if she wore her old ones, she'd just wind up in the tabloids more often for dressing like a homeless person, as they had once said.

She felt her emotions boiling over all over again. There just was no escaping the public. Slamming the stall door shut, she pressed her back against the cold door and breathed. Slowly. In and out. In and out. It helped her to cool down. In and out again. Against the cool surface of the door she noticed how overheated her skin was. Almost feverish.

"What's happening to me?" Jude buried her face inside her hands, only to let out a muffled groan.

"Have you seen Jude today?"

Jude immediately held her breath. She heard footsteps outside her stall. And that voice – it was so familiar. But who—

"No. That bad?"

Her eyes widened. That one she knew. The high-pitched, occasionally smooth-as-silk one belonged to Sadie.

"It's scary. I saw her when I arrived and then a few moments ago."

Laura! The first voice belonged to Laura. Confused, she breathed as silently as possible, afraid they would notice her. She turned her head gently, pushing one ear against the door to hear more clearly. Since when did Sadie and Laura talk?! And why were they talking about her?! Jude strained to hear every detail.

"Her arms are so thin. She's wearing a dress that's two or three sizes smaller than what she used to wear," Laura pointed out, leaving Jude to glance down at her arms. Was it really that bad?

Then Sadie walked a few steps. Probably across the room. Her voice was now coming from a different direction. "Every time I try to talk to her she's completely shutting off. I spoke to Tommy today. He said she was freaking out earlier. Something about making money by being famous. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. The worst part is, she's absolutely blind to everything around her. Yesterday morning she told me about a stylist Darius had gotten for her. I was so angry at him because she told me he didn't like how she looked. When I confronted Darius he told me the truth: the stylist is supposed to help hide the fact that she's looking anorexic. That's how bad it has gotten!"

"I wish there was something we could do. But if she doesn't realize that something has to change, then we're powerless," Laura said, audibly concerned.

Jude was not sure how to react. Should she be mad that everybody was talking and worrying and trying to help her? It was the first thing that had come to her mind. Because all she really wanted was to be left alone by everyone.

But then she remembered how the dress she was wearing was strapless and how the stylist had suggested, ferociously so, that it would not look right without a long-sleeved jacket. And she'd have worn the jacket had she not hurried so much and forgotten it in the cab.

It was true. She had lost a lot of weight. And now that she thought about it, the stylist had, when informing her most women weren't thin enough to wear this particular dress, not sounded delighted. Actually, it had sounded more of a warning of some sort.

Fine, maybe they were right. So she'd eat later. Screw the stomach-bug-lie. She was hungry, anyway. And she had fit into some good outfits two weeks ago. What was that? Five to seven pounds ago? If she gained five pounds, everyone would surely be happy again. No big deal. She missed going to Pizza Hut after all!

How hard could it be to gain some weight? She wasn't anorexic. Just eager to please.

_Please._

All thoughts in her head haltered for a moment. But before she could really make sense of that strange emotion that was suddenly overcoming her and which was so closely connected to the word 'please', she heard the door. Sometime during the last couple of seconds Laura and Sadie must have left. Now somebody else had entered. It was time for her to exit, too.

Tommy was probably searching everywhere for her.

Or not …

x

x

x

"It's a shame Jude is letting you be here all alone by yourself. A party is meant to be amusing. I saw her running away from you. Drama wherever that girl goes. One cannot enjoy himself with her." Portia took over the seat Jude had left behind. She smiled at Tommy. "I hope you don't mind a short chat with me?"

He had seen Jude disappearing inside the ladies' room and knew there was nothing he could do right now. "Actually I do, but if I go away, you'll just follow me anyway. So just get it over with, Portia."

"Always the polite gentleman. Except in the bedroom. I still remember when I was the naked woman in your bed, waiting for you to forget yourself in me."

He gripped her hand tightly, clenching his jaw as he forced out a smile. While he was against violence against women in general, the day had been long and this one made him forget his manners. "Get to the point: What do you want and what's it gonna cost me?"

"Nothing." He felt her struggling to free her hand. "I simply wanted to congratulate you on your good friend Kwest and wondered if you've shown him just how great a person he is. So upstanding and loyal. You really can't say that about a lot of people. Your other friend, Chaz, he's always been such a poster boy for bad behavior. Did you know we had a thing once? But don't worry. You were already cheating on me when I returned the favor. Hence my wondering if you're having an affair?"

"What?"

Her smile widened. "I mean, since Chaz is hooking up with Jude, I was only curious if you'd given her a reason to betray you. Did you?" Then her gaze strode across the room, feasting on the sight she found across the room. Jude was dancing with Chaz, their heads close and their lips moving rapidly with hushed whispers.

x

x

x

"He's probably cursing her," Chaz suggested, noting how much it bothered Jude that Tommy was talking to Portia while holding her hand. "He hates her."

"I know." Jude made an effort to pull her eyes away from her boyfriend, to look at Chaz. "I'm not jealous. I know he'd never date her again. It's just … that woman gives me the creeps every time I see her. So, when is your flight going? Tonight?"

"Two hours. I only came by to give my felicitations. And to attempt one last time to change your mind. If you need more arguments, I do have some money to offer."

"That," she scoffed, "is the last thing I want right now."

"Jewelry? Cars? Custom guitar?" He smirked. "You name your price!"

Jude's eyes lowered as her body stiffened in his hold, her mind too occupied with other issues. "I need to ask you something. And I'm only asking because we've always been absolutely honest with each other. Do I look okay?"

"Okay as in … date-material? Did Tom say something? And would it help my case?"

With a slight smile she shook her head. "Everywhere I go, people are worried about me. I heard Sadie talking to Laura about my weight. And Laura, out of all people, was concerned as well. I stole her husband and she's worried about my health." She met his eyes squarely. "How bad do I have to look for that to happen?!"

Chaz thought about his reply carefully. "You don't look _bad_. Then again, I barely know you. I don't really know a _before_-version of you. But you look unhappy. Very obviously so. You look as though everyone is getting on your nerves."

She frowned. "Why would you say that?" All she wanted was making everyone happy. Because when everyone was happy with her, nobody could criticize her and that was what she wanted the most.

_To please everyone._

There it was again.

"When was the last time you had a really good day?"

Deep in thought, Jude shrugged. "I don't know. It's been a while, I guess. There's just so much stress and—"

"No," Chaz interrupted. "Think about it: When was the last good day. One that you'd like to live again."

She contemplated his question. "There was this one day when I had a nice breakfast with Tommy, then I spent a few hours with Shay and we really had fun grumbling about each other. I was the wittier one and let him know." Her eyes began to lit up. "And that night I went to dinner with Shay. I met Tommy there and ..."

"And?"

"And we looked at each other. It sound so silly, but it was a really nice look. And I got to wear this stunning dress that day. I hadn't expected the day to be good. But that night … I was happy, even though there were some annoying moments."

"When was that day?"

Completely overwhelmed by the realization that her last really good day was months ago, tears sprung into her eyes. "About February."

"It's almost June."

She held on to him more firmly.

"Tell me, when do you think your next good day will come?"

Her lips opened, moved, tried to speak a word. But not a sound escaped her mouth. And then she was gone and out of his sight. Before he could find out if there was anything he could do to make her feel better, Chaz felt two strong hands shoving him backwards and into a dark corner of the club. "What the hell did you do to her?!"

"I?" Chaz pushed against Tommy's shoulders to gain some space. "Look around you, T! What have all of _you_ done to her?! That girl is on the verge of a breakdown! She can't deal with what's happening around her. Everywhere she goes, she gets photographed. People constantly talk about her and I don't even mean the tabloids! Talking, talking, talking. That's all that's happening around here. Every time I speak with Jude, she's desperate to know what _my_ life has been like because she can't stand to even hear her own name anymore. And you want to know what just made her run? The fact that she realized her last really good day was in February! Do the math, Tom: That's _before_ you two became a couple. What does that tell you?!"

Glaring icily at Chaz, Tommy's shoulders fell. Almost as if he'd been struck with a bullet. "I know she's unhappy. I don't know how to change that! Do you think I like what's going on with the media? What am I supposed to do?! Politely ask them to stop caring for her? Dammit, she knew what would happen if we started dating. She _agreed_ to it. I never forced her into anything!"

"You shouldn't have pursued her in the first place!"

"I love her! I can't help myself!" All his words came blurting out in one long row. He felt as if he had to apologize for feeling how he did. He never intended to for her to suffer when she made him so happy! "She wanted to go slow and I got it but then she said she had an offer from New York to work as somebody else's assistant and suddenly all I could think was that I'll never see her again and something snapped. I kissed her and she never stopped me. Chaz … I know she's not well. Tell me how to fix it and I will! But I don't know how! She's not talking to me. I didn't even know you two were friends!" And that's what they were. Portia had said they had an affair and while he easily believed Chaz to be capable of that, he knew that Jude could never do that. He had learned that much during the last couple of months!

"You don't know a lot of things," Chaz concluded. "Beginning with the fact that she does not have an offer from New York to be another man's assistant."

"What?"

"_I _am the person that offered her a job in New York. As a lead singer. I offered her a record deal with my new label."

"I don't understand."

"Tom, you should go and talk to her."

"Yes. I know. There's so much we need to talk about. Look, Chaz, thanks for … for this. For letting me know. I'm sorry though. Jude would have been a wonderful artist to work with. Her talent is amazing. But she said 'no' even when I asked her and—"

"She never said 'no'."

The words hung in the air, heavy and hard to grasp. Tommy was blankly staring at him when Chaz pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it over. "You should go and talk to her and then you should say goodbye to her. It's a one-way ticket to New York. If you love her the way you say you do, you'll tell her to take the offer. Because here, surrounded by two ex-wifes, a bored media and a dozen people who have made her the center of their life, she will not get better. She needs to be someone other than _Tom Quincy's girlfriend_ and you know that she won't achieve that here."

"You don't know that—"

"And she needs to be away from you, too."

"Screw you!"

"Think about it, Tom. For her to start all over, the world needs to forget about her. And with you right next to her, that's impossible. You know I'm right!"

Chaz walked away, leaving Tom behind, burdened yet a lot less confused. A small part of him knew that Chaz was right, but giving up on the girl that made him so happy would be a task harder than anything he had ever had to do. And the pounding bass music in the background surely didn't help him come up with another option.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 22 – Something To Think About**

He found her outside, next to a loaded dumpster. With her back against the wall, her eyes closed and tendrils of curled hair framing her pale face, to him, she was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever met. Even though he'd come across dozens of models, actresses and other famed-for-their-beauty starlets in his recent life, Jude stood out from all of them. Even at her worst, she still carried herself with poise and grace. Her skin, pale from dieting and stress, still sparkled against the dim light. Her eyes were red and tired, rimmed with tears, but they shone bright when he gazed into them. And her lips, thin and smeared with lipstick too stark, were the most perfect ones he'd ever kissed.

"I love you."

Jude's eyes flew open, surprised by his sudden appearance but more by his words.

"There's not a moment more unfitting that I could have chosen to say it. But it's the truth. I've known it for a long while now. Maybe I even knew from the second I met you. You've come into my life and everything just got better. Every morning I wake up I can't wait to see you, to kiss you, to— just to be with you." He stepped closer to her, yearning for her nearness. "Until you came into my life, I had no idea what life could be like if you have someone to share it with. Somebody that understands and gets you like no one else does." His hand inched towards hers, gently taking a hold of it. "And I had no idea that," he continued, his voice hoarse and strained, "it could hurt so much knowing I can't make you feel the same way." Because that was what the conversation with Chaz had shown him. Jude was unhappy and there was not a thing he could do to change that.

Her fingertips dug into his hand, gripping it as hard as she could before lunging herself into his arms. "I love you, too," she whispered, tearing up and sobbing into his shoulders. "And you make me happy."

He believed her.

With her face buried in the crook of his neck, Jude struggled for control over her voice. "I'm happy with you, Tommy. When we're alone, I couldn't be happier. It's the time we're not alone that is so hard. But," her hold on him tightened as her head leaned back, so her eyes could meet his, "I'll manage. I'll get a hold of myself and we'll figure it out. I promise." A desperate tone filled her voice, telling him she had a sense of what decision they had to make.

He brushed a loose strand of hair from her forehead, taking a prolonged moment of pleasure in touching her so intimately. "I know we will. And I don't doubt for a second that you can arrange yourself with what's going on around us. Around you." Only it was the one thing he didn't want her to do. Pecking her lips briefly, then longer, then allowing to get lost in a deep, loving, almost despairing kiss, he acknowledged that Chaz had been right with everything. If she'd arrange herself with being his girlfriend, she'd be forever that. And that wasn't at all what he wanted. He wanted the world to see what a magical, wonderful, colorful person she was. And he wanted her to sing. He'd always wanted that. He knew she'd never find the recognition she deserved if she stayed with him. Everyone would call her out for using him to get a record deal. No matter how false that statement would be – nobody would doubt it.

Everyone had to forget about her, like Chaz had said. She needed to be Jude again. Not _his girlfriend_. And if it took New York for that, then he'd never be able to forgive himself if he kept that from her.

So he gently pried himself away from her, cupped her face and touched her forehead with his. "Jude, I don't want you to arrange yourself with anything. I don't want you to bend for anyone, least of all for the press. I want you to be you, and we both know you can't be you here with me. Not right now."

More tears fell from her hollow eyes. "I don't want to leave you." She kissed him hard. "Come with me. You can be a producer in New York. You can be my producer in New York." A garbled scoff escaped her. "I don't even know if I can sing in front of another person but you! I haven't sung in years."

"You will have to learn." Another kiss. "Girl, you need to go and I need to stay. You have to start living your life. You know that, don't you?" He begged her to know, because he wasn't sure how many more times he could tell her to go when all he wanted was for her to stay. Yes, New York would be the best choice for her. But it was his head that knew, not his heart.

xxxxxxx

"That was quiet a party last night," Kwest remarked, looking up with red, tired eyes, wondering why on earth he'd agreed to meet Tommy as early as 10 a.m. the morning after his birthday. "You sounded horrible on the phone. Did something happen?"

"Jude is moving to New York." Tommy all but pulled himself into the booth of their usual coffee shop, limbs heavy and uncooperative.

"When?"

"Last night."

Okay. So much for a light morning. Ordering a strong Espresso for himself and for Tommy, Kwest forced his exhausted body to straighten up. "Why?"

That's when Tommy filled Kwest in on the issues Jude was having.

Two Espressos later and far more aware of his surroundings than half an hour ago, Kwest patted his friend's arm. A gesture of support and friendship.

"I drove her to the airport last night and…it was a teary goodbye. The pictures are online by now, I assume."

"I can't believe you didn't go with her!"

"What for? To attract attention all over again? No," he said, not as convinced as he'd like it to sound. He knew it was the right thing to do – right now at least – but with every passing hour he wondered if there might not have been another solution as well. A long, extended vacation in the middle of nowhere, for example. Or a delayed departure, to say goodbye properly. "Whatever," he cut his own thoughts off, useless as they were, "she's in New York now. I can't go and drag her back just because I miss her. She deserves to live the life she was meant to have. And I," that he had come to realize after a night of no sleep, "will have to fix my own. Jude needed someone that had her back and I couldn't be that person because of my own troubles. I need to get my mess straightened out."

"Meaning?" Kwest's ears perked up. "Will you finally accept that your marriage is over, your apartment lost and your fortune divided by two?"

Tommy sneered, "Funny! Just what I need right now!" But he had to admit Kwest had a point. "I thought I had found a new place, but Jude called it…, well, she wasn't particularly happy with the _décor_."

"Don't tell me you brought her to the marble cave!"

"Don't call it that. A little renovating could have made it a nice place!"

Kwest couldn't help but scoff. "It was covered in pink marble!"

"I'd have gotten rid of it!"

"You know what you should work on? This exactly. You don't go and throw about a ton of marble, tacky as it might look, into the garbage can. Tom, we're friends and I know there was a time in life where you had no money at all. You should revisit that time!"

"What the fuck? What's all the money talk about all of sudden?"

"During the last couple of years – during the last couple of months particularly – you've tried to solve every issue by money. Laura was mad, you got her presents. Jude didn't want to lie, you offered her money. You didn't want to do something, you paid someone to do it. Classy act sending Sadie to apologize to Laura for you, by the way."

"How do you know that?"

"I do talk to Laura on occasion!"

"I thought you found her annoying."

"No, Tom." Kwest rolled his eyes. "That was you. I was the one betting against your Happily Ever After with her exactly for that reason."

Tommy thought about it for a moment. "I tried to apologize to Laura. _Personally! _ She won't hear me out."

"After the shit you pulled I wouldn't, either. But with Jude gone, you have a lot of free time on your hands. You should try again. Genuinely this time."

A ripping glare in his eyes, Tommy seethed at Kwest. "I'm sick and tired of people telling me I should genuinely apologize to Laura. I did! I _am_ sorry for the crap I did! I _did_ tell her that. I'm not a soulless monster, you know. You know!" He added, reminding Kwest that they were friends long enough and that, as his friend, Kwest should know him better than that.

"Sorry!" Pulling out some money, he tossed a few bills on the table. "Today is probably not the best time to have this conversation. Look, I get that you're upset. I wasn't trying to piss you off. But Jude is the only person you ever let in deep enough to get to know the real you. And even she hasn't scratched the surface of the real dark places. You think you apologized to Laura genuinely but let me tell you: you didn't! I know because she told me. And while I agree that Portia is a bitch at times, she never got an apology either—"

"And she will never get one! You don't know half of what she's done, not just to me but to others."

"Does she know half of what you've done to her?" Kwest didn't wait for a reply. Grabbing his jacket he gave Tommy a final look. "The fact that other people screwed up doesn't make your mistakes go away."

Startled, Tommy watched Kwest walk out of the cafe. He needed to talk to Jude. He needed to talk to her to tell her how he felt now that she was gone. He missed her. That to him was a really startling thing. Never before had he longed for another human being as much as for her. Those feelings were new and confusing and they made him feel helpless and vulnerable and he wanted her to assure him that it was normal and good to feel the way he did. She had always been good at that. She could make him be at ease like no other could. With her, he could be himself. And Jude, his girlfriend Jude, would never walk out on him. What was Kwest thinking?! Apologizing to Portia? He had enough things on his mind right now. Worrying about some crazy chick with pathological addiction to lying and scheming was not an issue he wanted to bother with.

Right now, he wanted to do nothing that would complicate things. He wanted a break. Screw fixing anything, he decided. He was lonely and rich and he might as well take some time off from being _around_.

But Jude...he missed her.

And so he dialed.

Before she could pick up the phone, he hung up. Ordering another coffee, he sat back and placed the phone back into his pocket. He would not bother Jude with his confusion and his loneliness, he decided then. She had her own problems to take care of. She didn't need his as well.

xxxxxx

Jude stared at the display of her phone, eyes clinging to the letters spelling Tommy's name. He'd called her. And then he'd hung up. What was she to make of that? Was it good? Did he want to talk to her? Or didn't he? Was that the reason he'd hung up before she could answer? Should she call him back to find out? Would he want that?

"Arrgh!" She exclaimed frustratedly into the silence of her surroundings. In the middle of a small recording booth, which contained nothing but a microphone and chair, she wished he'd be here right now. This sucked. Being away from the one person she wanted to share this with more than anything was not just hard, but it felt unfair. Like she'd been cheated out of a wonderful time by life itself.

"You okay?"

Looking up, surprised to find someone across the big window in front of her, she nodded shyly. She hadn't expected onlookers. "Yeah, fine. Just...nothing." Once more she glanced at her phone. He had hung up. Maybe for a reason. She wouldn't call him now to ask for it. She could call him later. Or maybe he would call later. She definitely planned on speaking with him. To hear his voice. She missed that. The soothing, soft tone that always calmed her.

But not now.

Later.

She put her phone away.

After all, he had hung up for a reason.

"Should I leave?" She asked the guy across from her, on the other side of the glass.

"No, by all means. I'm Rick. One of your producers. Chaz wants to produce, too. But he's new to that and so he asked for my help." He offered a friendly wave. "Actually, I was hoping you'd sing a song for me. Everyone is telling me how great you are but no one can tell me what your voice sounds like. How's that?" He leaned forward, onto the small soundboard. Everything seemed small. G-Major was much more equipped and high-tech. But she liked the intimacy of this studio. It had something basic and sober. It wasn't the flashiness and the success that stared you in the face when you entered G-Major. This was music, but in it's beginning.

Jude realized he waited for her to answer. "I, um, haven't sung in a long while. Never on a big stage. And never in a studio. Scarcely in front of a producer, and the only one...that's a different story. Anyway, I'm here to start singing. I just don't know if I can."

"How so," Rick wondered, still speaking to her through the glass wall.

"Like I said, I haven't sung in a while."

Having expected a more elaborate answer, Rick leaned back again. "Well," he said eventually. "Singing is like riding a bike. Once you know how, you'll never forget."

"I _can_ sing," Jude pointed out, feeling gravely misunderstood. "Just – never mind!"

"Never mind what?"

"Excuse me?"

With arms crossed, Rick displayed a level of serenity Jude both envied and found bewildering. "I'm sorry to press you, but Chaz is a good friend of mine. I've heard SME. They have talent. I can work with that. We had arranged an audition for a lead-singer to complete their band. Good singers. Great singers. Some of whom I've worked with and whom I'd like to front a good band that might actually become big one day. But all of sudden I get a call telling me the world's best singer has decided to join SME and while everyone is saying how great you are, the moment I ask what's your voice like, they go all, 'Um...yeah...well...good...I guess.' I'm reasonably confused, as you can imagine and so I go and _google_ you. And now guess my surprise when I find out that you're Chaz' friend's girlfriend whom he left his wife for. Don't get this the wrong way but – to be very clear here – I want to know if you slept your way into this booth."

Jude was struck. In that second, everything she had thought she could leave in Toronto had come right with her to New York, and even into this very booth. Like a scary monster, it was here, staring her in the face, demanding a reaction. And so Jude offered one. "Yes," she said, defeated and ashamed.

Then she walked out.

xxxxxx

"This was a huge mistake." Jude strummed idle notes on an acoustic guitar when Chaz walked into his office – a room with nothing but a chair and a table and a bunch of moving boxes. She sat on one of them. More strumming. "I thought I could start new. How stupid was I," she grumbled, meeting his eyes with just the slightest hint of accusation. Chaz had made her believe New York would be different. "This Rick-guy already thinks I slept my way into this, and I couldn't even deny it. If it hadn't been for Tommy, I wouldn't be here."

"And if it wouldn't be for a twisted turn of fate, you'd be famous already by now, filling stadiums and arenas all over the world." He sat down behind his empty desk. "Life is more than one bad decision." When he came to see that Jude expected a more elaborate answer, he continued. "You can't change the facts, Jude. Either you run and hide for the rest of your life or you use this opportunity and prove everyone wrong. They only know what others say and wrote about you. Don't you think it's time to tell your side of the story?"

"It sounds much simpler than it is."

"Oh trust me, I know." He got up again and walked over to a specific box, took something out and handed it to Jude. "In my time we had these things called tape-recorder. Hear yourself sing. You will be surprised how good you are."

"How can you know?" Jude wanted to know, startled by the faith he had in her. "You've never heard me sing."

"Actually, I did. Spiederman showed me some old school performance of you. You were, like, fourteen or so. You were great even then."

"He did what?!"

Chaz rolled his eyes. "I like you, Jude. But did you really think I offer you a contract out of pure hope that you _might_ be able to hit a note? I have bills to pay. And now go and make me money."

xxxxxx

"You?" Jude stepped aside as Rick walked into her hotel room, a box of chocolates in hand. It even had a bow on it. Her eyes followed it."I hope these are not for me. I'm kind of dating someone."

Looking at the chocolates, then at her, he chortled, rolling his eyes at the same time. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm on my way to a date. Also, what should I bring you chocolates for?"

"I don't know," Jude admitted, idly irritated and slightly embarrassed he found the idea of it so crazy, "but then again, what reason do you have to be here at all? How do you even know where I live?"

"Chaz. He ripped me a new one for calling you out earlier." He let his eyes travel the room, taking in various guitars and sheets of music. "You raided me out. Way to start a professional partnership. I was told to apologize. _Sorry_. Don't think I actually mean it, however. Until you prove to me you deserve to be in that booth, I will assume you slept your way into it. But since we have to work together on a regular basis from now on, I suggest you come to me if you have a problem with me. Feel free to yell or curse at me. People frequently do. Call me an ass for all I care. But don't let other people fight your battles for you." He looked at her with a hint of resentment. "Since I have to '_slowly guide you through the maze that's showbiz'_, as Chaz so poetically informed me, I will also be giving you professional advice. So here's Rule Number One: Don't make a big fuss over everything! I hate drama!"

Jude gaped, stunned witless.

"Good. Be in the booth at 8 tomorrow morning. Bring a song. And leave your phone at home. I don't like my artists preoccupied."

Offering no further goodbye, he headed for the door and was all but gone when Jude finally rediscovered her voice. "Why is it so ridiculous to think you brought the chocolates for me?"

"That's what you want to know?" Rick shook his head. "I don't date artists, and you're 'kind of dating someone', right?"

"Right."

"Also, have you looked into a mirror lately? Do you eat _at all_?" He scoffed. "I got to go." And then he was gone.

Mirror. Jude was abruptly struck by the shocking realization that she hadn't looked into a mirror for weeks. She'd been shoved in front of one by the stylist Darius had gotten for her, but she had not looked. She had stood in front of it, stared right at it, actually, but she hadn't seen herself. She had seen nobody, as if gazing through a wall of glass, into emptiness. She had not faced at herself for weeks.

So she walked into the bedroom, opened the small closet and found a floor length mirror on the back of the door. She looked.

And then she cried.

xxxxx

Tommy lay awake that night, buzzing from half a bottle of unidentified liquor that he had bought at a gas station. Its label read "Brandy" but its taste reminded him of vomit. Not that that stopped him from drinking it. In the background a rerun of _The Bachelor_ was airing and as he occasionally glanced up to follow the show, he wondered why on earth women would put up with that kind of behavior. One dude was having the time of his life making out with a bunch of women at the same time without having to apologize a single time. What was that word Laura constantly used when watching that show? Degrading! Right. It was degrading!

"Jude would never do this," he spoke into the darkness. "Never!" Not his girl. She had more class than any of these women.

He grabbed his phone and dialed her number. When she picked up, he didn't introduce himself. Or even bothered to say _hello_. "You'd never do that!"

"Tommy?" Somewhere in a New York hotel room, a light went on and a sleepy head strained to find out what time it was. Half past two. "Is everything okay? Why are you calling me in the middle of the night?"

Trying to sit up and failing gloriously, almost dropping the phone in the process, he sighed. "I miss you. Did I tell you that?"

"When would you have done that? This morning, when you hung up on me? Or during the past six hours that I tried calling you, when you refused to answer?"

"So that was what I kept hearing!" He felt like he was having an epiphany. The odd chirping he'd heard repeatedly while chugging down vomit labeled "Brandy" had been his cellphone! Of course! He laughed at his own stupidity.

"You're drunk."

"Veeeerrrrrrry drunk," he agreed. "But hey, I miss you, Jude. I wanted to tell you. Oh, and," he eyes landed once more on the TV, "and I wanted to say just how proud I am of you that you would never do that!"

She yawned into the phone, "do whaaaaat?"

"Misbehave and not apologize, of course. Aren't you watching it?"

"Watching what? Tommy, it's the middle of the night. I was sleeping."

"The Bachelor." Time and space were lost on him, and so was Jude's comment about sleeping. "It's airing. He's making out with four girls. In _one_ episode!"

"Yeah, I know that show."

"You would never let me do that, would you?"

Tentatively, Jude replied, "I wouldn't know how to keep you from doing that. But I certainly wouldn't forgive you for it." The last part carried a hint of a warning. Just a tiny little one. Not that he needed one.

"Oh, but you could."

"Forgive you?"

"Forbid me."

"Seriously, how much did you drink," she wondered.

"Just some...I don't know. A lot. But you don't need to, you know?"

"Forgive you?"

"Forbid me! Are you listening? I'm not going to make out with other girls, cause that's why I called. To tell you that."

"That you wouldn't make out with other girls."

"Exactly! Because I miss you. And I love you. _And_ I don't know which one I do more."

In her hotel-room, Jude sunk back into her cushion and smiled into the phone. "I miss you. And I love you. And I really wish you were here right now."

"Me too. We could watch _The Bachelor_ together and then I could kiss you and..."

"And?"

"And kiss you again. And smell your hair. It's all over my bed. The smell of it. The room-service people wanted to change the bed sheets but I told them to go away. The pillows are all I have left of you."

He was adorably honest when he was drunk, she found, and clutched her phone more tightly. A substitute for him, for he was so very far away.

"I have a problem," she admitted.

Tommy growled. "Me too. I'm horny and you're not here."

A giggle slipped past her lips. "Yeah, that too. But," her voice took on a serious tone, "I'm saying I have a problem. You've been telling me for weeks. Everyone was, but-" She paused when she heard a light snoring sound. "Tommy?" Nothing. "Tom!" Still nothing. But more snoring.

Jude sighed. Well. This conversation might after better happen when he wasn't drunk. "Good night, Tommy."


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 23 – Doubt. **

"How is Jude doing?" Laura casually asked as she took a piece from the cherry pie she was having. The sweet taste spread across her tongue as though it was a languid kiss. The delicious creaminess of the cake was starting all kinds of firework and she briefly closed her eyes to enjoy the sensation. Ever since her separation from Tommy she'd gained six pounds and lost two runway jobs. To compensate for the lost jobs she ate even more. Now she was having trouble finding pants in her closet that still fit. But hell would freeze over before she'd be seen buying jeans in anything larger than a size two. That's what sweatpants had been invented for!

Sadie was a happy size four to six and not ashamed to eat like one. "You need to try this chocolate cake. It's divine!" She devoured the last crumbs on her fork before answering Laura's initial question. "Jude called last night." Two weeks had passed since she'd headed to New York. "She and SME share a loft in Brooklyn to save money. They moved in last weekend. She hasn't appeared in a single tabloid since her departure and she gained seven pounds, which is great! She even asked me to send her some of her old clothes, mostly jeans and shirts. So thank God her weight issue has vanished."

Laura nodded. Not that she would admit it publicly, but she had been worried about Jude's health. The girl had been scary thin! Unlike herself, Laura thought grimly, glancing down at her thighs. A famous designer had not too many moons ago complimented her on the gap between her thighs. That gap was there no more. Fat had a nasty habit of always heading for the wrong direction. Instead of making her breasts grow half a cup, it chose her legs instead. "And she and Tom?" she asked distractedly, still critically gazing at her legs.

A thoughtful expression settled on Sadie's face. "They talk on the phone occasionally. She gushes about the new songs she's written and he...um..." Her eyes dared glancing at Laura, who had stopped devouring her pie.

When Sadie stopped talking, Laura looked up. "What? Tommy does what?"

Sadie searched for the right words. Tommy was repeatedly and very happily informing Jude and her that he'd hired a new divorce lawyer, who had handled a bunch of supposedly lost cases only to win big in the end. He planned on taking back his apartment. But his winning meant Laura's losing. And that put Sadie in a bit of a trap. Was she allowed to tell Laura about Tommy's plans? Afraid to trip into a legal land-mine, she chose her next words carefully. "Tommy is keeping Jude informed about his current affairs." Damnit, she thought. "Affairs is the wrong term! He doesn't have any! I know cause I'm spending all my time with him." Not much better coming from a former swooning fan! "What I meant to say is-"

"That they talk," Laura offered. "Seriously, Sadie. You can talk openly. I'm over it. He chose her. I've accepted that."

Sadie swallowed a groan. Not only did she have to tread carefully because Tommy and Laura only communicated through lawyers. She also had to decipher how Laura felt about her ex. "Yesterday you told me you wanted to see him bleeding to death."

Yesterday, Laura remembered bitterly, her agent had carelessly let her know her that she looked fat in a leggings. The comment about seeing Tommy bleed to death wasn't so much aimed at him as at male beings in general. But Laura kept that to herself, settling for a little white lie instead. "So? I like holding a grudge. Doesn't mean I'm still heartbroken."

"O-kay..."

"You don't believe me." Laura pushed her plate aside as she waved for the waiter. "I'm totally fine!" When the waiter came, she ordered two slices of chocolate cake and a milkshake with extra cream. "I'm over him."

"You're wearing sweatpants today," Sadie pointed out. It was the first time she had ever seen Laura not wearing tailored clothes outside the gym. And they had not been to the gym today. Or any day lately. "Bright and shiny pink sweatpants."

"From Chanel! What's your point?"

"You also said you'd be heading for a swimsuit shoot for Victoria's Secret last week. You didn't go."

The cake arrived and Laura took a big bite from the first slice. "And? I changed my mind."

"Look, after everything that happened with Jude, the last thing I want to do is call you fat but-"

"Oh my God, you're calling me fat!"

"I am not!" She cursed inwardly. "I am simply worried that you're overcompensating your loss of Tommy with too much food."

Laura rose to her feet and tossed a few dollars on the table. "Keep the change. AND the cake!" Outraged she grabbed her handbag and stormed towards the exit. There she stopped abruptly, whipping around, announcing loudly while pointing to her behind, "This is still the hottest ass in the model industry, I have you know! And if I wanted to be in the Victoria's Secret Swimsuit catalog, I would be!" Not looking where she was heading, she ran straight into a waiter who was serving coffee. The latter now dripped down her pink Chanel sweatpants.

Of course everyone was watching.

Everyone including him, who had just entered. "Nice outfit!" He smirked.

Laura's glare was as malicious and vile as a glare could possibly be. She grabbed a napkin from a nearby table, tried to salvage her outfit. It was a futile attempt, she soon had to admit. With pulsing rage and severely tested restraint she looked him straight in the eyes, took a step forward and icily suggested, "Drop dead!"

And then she left.

"You rotten piece of shit."

Tommy spun around to stare at Sadie, whom he had not noticed before, but who had made her presence known with a vengeance. "What did you just call me?"

"Oh you heard me," She proclaimed. "Laura is having a really tough week. She's trying to hide it but she's doing a bad job at it. She lost two runway jobs and a catalog shot – the runway jobs I only know about because I know someone who knows someone who knows someone. She doesn't fit into her clothes anymore. The tabloids are writing crap about her and you, out of all people in the world, have the guts to smirk at her when she's at her lowest? I'll say it again, just so you know you heard me right the first time: You rotten piece of shit. _I _am taking the rest of the day off. _You_ will go after her and fix it!"

This was quite a new experience for him. Jude had been honest with him before but Sadie – she was brutally so! And not just that. She was frightening, mean and she had a threatening glare that could scare wolves away. However, he was not afraid of her. Or suicidal. "I'm not going after Laura! You saw her!"

Now it was Sadie's term to take a step closer and get into his face. "Go after her, Quincy. Or I will personally confirm that you take up Darius' offer for a Yoga retreat weekend. 48 hours of company. You, Darius and one very flamboyant Yoga teacher."

She was blackmailing him. How dare she! Tommy didn't back down. "I can fire you right now."

"You can," she agreed, only to pull out her phone, "but by that time I'll already have hit the "send" button. What's it gonna be, _heartthrob_? An apology, or a weekend in hell? Be aware, the yoga teacher is gay and has a HUGE crush on you!"

Xxxxxxx

Tommy shifted uncomfortably in front of his former apartment's door, equal parts ashamed and humiliated that he had cowered under Sadie's threat. Damn Darius and his retreat invitations! Not that he was against spending time with homosexuals in general. He had many gay friends. But a flamboyant gay yoga teacher who had a crush on him _and_ Darius in the same place, at the same time? No. That was just too much to ask for right now.

"What do you want?" Laura refused to open the door more than two inches, determined not to let him enter. "Wasn't I clear earlier?"

"Believe me, you were," he muttered.

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I want to apologize."

Laura all but scoffed. He sounded like a five-year old, forced by his mother to apologize to another kid for taking away his toy. "What exactly are you sorry for?"

"The comment about your outfit."

"Because..." She knew she was pushing his patience but after their earlier encounter she hardly cared. In her current mood she was primed for a fight and he was as good an opponent as any.

Tommy lowered his head. "I upset you. It was wrong." An awkward second later he turned to leave.

Laura stared at his retreating back. "That's all?"

"I didn't kill anyone. It was one stupid comment and a smirk." While waiting for the elevator, he shrugged, turning around to face her. "If Sadie hadn't made me-" He stopped instantly. If there was ever a moment fitting for a face-palm, it was this one.

"She told you to apologize, didn't she?" Crossing her arms smugly, Laura leaned against the door frame. "Ha! I should have known immediately. The always-innocent Tom Quincy would never say he's sorry unless forced to do so."

"I didn't come to fight."

"Why are you here, then? Certainly not because you regret what you said to me. You never regret anything. Not being mean to others, not being hurtful, and sure as hell not being a cheater!"

The elevator arrived but Tommy didn't enter. Having been forced by Sadie to come here had been annoying enough, but he'd done it. Not only because he was adamantly opposed to spending time with Darius and some Yoga teacher, but because deep down he knew he'd done something wrong, hard as it was to admit that. While normally he didn't let that guilt control his actions, Sadie's comment about Laura having a bad week made him make an exception. But he was neither prepared nor willing to get called out all over again for cheating. "I screwed up and I know it!" He snapped. "I tried to apologize for that on more than one occasion. You constantly cut me off and tell me to go to hell!"

"Because you don't mean that apology," Laura bit back.

"How would you know? Did you ever let me finish?"

"Well, fine – finish now! Apologize for falling in love with Jude."

His eyes darkened. "That I won't!"

"Go figure!" She retreated into the apartment and was about to close the door when he followed her inside.

"I am not sorry for my feelings, Laura. I didn't choose to fall in love with Jude. It just happened."

She grew more agitated by the second, aggravated he'd followed her instead of leaving. "Everything just happens with you. You're never responsible for anything!"

"I _am_ responsible for how it all got so screwed up. I'm sorry I kept secrets from you. I'm sorry I lied to you and most of all I'm sorry I cheated. Twice. I'm sorry I couldn't be the person you deserved. I should have never married you."

"WHY DID YOU?!" As she yelled those words at him, all her strength went with them. She deflated, taking a seat on the edge of a chair, blankly staring up at him. "I did everything for you. I was there for you when nobody else was. I tried to give you a home and I welcomed you into my family. My parents knew what you did to me the first time and I begged them to forgive you for it and to welcome you with open arms." She wiped away the tears she couldn't keep from falling. She wasn't sad or hurt, just incredibly angry. "From the moment we were married – even before – you knew you wouldn't be the man I hoped for. I know about your little secret agreement with Jude – lie to me if you cheat. You didn't try. You didn't even want to try."

"That's not true. You can ask Jude. I tried. I really did. I wanted to fall in love with you. I wanted to come as close to the man you deserve as I could. I even read those damned historical romance novels just so I could find a better way to make you feel loved. But it didn't work. I didn't buy you all those presents to keep you happy. You deserved them. Because I couldn't give you what you really wanted. I _am_ sorry for everything that I did to you. But Jude is the best thing that ever entered my life and I will not feel bad for wanting to keep her there."

For a long while they just stayed in their positions, silent, in thought. Until, after what appeared to be hours but where no more than a few minutes, Laura spoke up again. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to hate you? I have known you for all those years. I saw you struggling and I know you deserve to find someone who loves you." Being brutally honest not just meant telling others the truth, Laura understood. It meant accepting truths oneself. "I just never thought that the best thing for you would cause me so much hurt."

"I never meant for that," he resolutely assured. "If there was any way I could make up for it, I would. I would do so much. I would never have sent Sadie to make up for what I did in my name. I was at a loss for options. She wasn't supposed to be the easy way to apologize. I didn't know how else to get to you. Everything got so screwed up. If you tell me to do something to fix it, I will." For the first time he his pride not take the better of him. "I will call my lawyers. You can keep the apartment and everything else you want. I will tell the world that I'm the worst husband ever and that it's all my fault. I will apologize to your parents. You can have anything you want from me!"

"Even your fancy blue car?"

He didn't even have to think about it. "Anything." The genuine will to atone came as a shock to him, but then again, not really. Whenever he'd met with Laura and their lawyers, he'd been carefully prepared. Not just in terms of legal ramifications for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. He'd also prepared his emotions. He'd stilled himself. Forced himself to believe that two people were at fault. Not just he. He had tried to convince himself that he had done scarcely a wrong thing – except, well, cheating! He had fallen in love with Jude. It hadn't been a mindless affair. No one could blame him for that! Only, he now saw, he should have never married Laura or pursued her to begin with. Her heart had been involved. And his had not. And because of that, he was the culprit and no one else. At the end of the day he could lie to Jude, to Kwest, to Sadie and to everyone else. But not to himself.

So here he was, finally grasping that. "I am sorry."

Suddenly Laura realized that he, indeed, truly was. And just like that, it changed everything. "I don't want your car. Or this apartment," she conceded. He felt bad. It was all she had ever wanted.

His gaze drifted across the room, taking in the bright green new wallpaper and the three-dimensional bright pink and yellow butterflies dangling from the ceiling.

She noticed his expression and, for the first time since finding out about him and Jude, offered an authentic, if very little, smile. "I hate how it looks."

His brow went up, surprised by her lack of hostility. But, regarding the interior design, he could only agree. "Why'd you go for it?"

"To spite you."

He had to chuckle at that.

Laura scooted towards the back of the chair, pulled up her legs and hugged them. "I ordered the butterflies a day before you moved out. I knew you would hate them, but you were barely at home and I wanted to punish you for it."

"With butterflies?"

"I didn't have an assistant I could cheat with." She actually regretted saying that.

But, "I deserved that," Tommy acknowledged. "Why did you hang them anyway?"

"To remind myself I'm not completely innocent myself. I knew you were struggling with our marriage but instead of backing off, I kept pushing you. I don't blame Jude for what happened. If you talk to her, would you tell her that? She's been through enough. It wasn't her fault. If not her, then somebody else would have filled the role she had." Since their split she'd come to accept that. They were never meant to be and it had only been a matter of time for something to part them.

"That's very big of you to say that."

"You weren't the only one reading self-help books." Glancing at the clock, she rose from the chair. "I have to be somewhere in a little while. You can have the apartment back. I'll inform my lawyer. I only wanted it because you wanted it. Classic divorce move, right?" She offered him peace. "I don't think we'll be friends anytime soon, but...if we met somewhere, don't turn the other way. We can be civil, I think."

"I would really appreciate that. I..." he hesitated, "don't _not_ care for you. I want you to know that. You matter to me. I shouldn't have mocked you earlier. But-"

"But," she granted, "I looked ridiculous."

For a brief second he pondered giving her a hug, but figured that would be pushing his luck. And her endurance. So he offered a timid smile in return, while heading towards the door."'Til then."

"Yeah. 'Til then."

xxxxxx

"_A love reunion? With Jude Harrison AWOL, Tom Quincy has been seen leaving his still-wife's apartment after what appeared to be a lengthy visit. With summer knocking on our doors, do we smell a rekindled romance looming?"_

Jude stared at the pictures that were printed alongside that headline. One was of Tommy, leaving his old apartment building. She couldn't deny that he looked at ease. After working for him for quite a time, she'd gotten good in reading his facial expression and it was obvious to her that he not left whatever meeting he had with Laura on a bad note. Then there was the picture of Laura in some high fashion shop trying on a beautiful long blue gown that she proudly modeled for Sadie, who stood right next to her at a mirror. Lastly there was a snapshot of Tommy at a flower shop, coming out with a beautiful bouquet of red roses. The picture was taken three days ago, it said. And Jude was pretty sure the flowers weren't meant for her, otherwise they'd arrived by now. If someone were to send them by mail, which was ridiculous. These flowers were definitely not for her.

She wasn't jealous. Absolutely not. It was the distance that was bothering her. At home she had always been in the middle of whatever had been going on in Tommy's life but now she was thousands of miles and a state border away from him, from Sadie and from their lives that didn't stop simply because she wasn't there anymore. She missed knowing what was going on. She missed being involved. Here, far away, she was happy about making music – writing music, that was. But she had no one to talk to. SME were great partners, music-wise, but they were also very close-knit and so she felt at times like an outcast. Chaz was busy building up his label and her producer...well, he wasn't at all the company she was looking for.

She stuffed the tabloid back into her bag and picked up a pencil that had dropped to the floor earlier, resuming writing yet another song.

"You can stop with that!" His cranky voice snapped via the intercom. Jude's eyes flew up. She had expected to be alone. It was lunch-break, and as far as she knew, Rick took his break away from the studio. He was currently dating a slender, dark-haired aspiring actress slash model slash singer. But Jude also knew her as _The Girl That Works At Subway_. She met Rick's impatient expression and sighed. Their relationship had not improved since their first meeting.

"I'm in the middle of writing a really good ballade," Jude informed him.

Rick rolled his eyes, much to her chagrin. "That's what? The twelfth song since you got here?" He got up and entered the sound booth. "While I'm a huge fan of productivity, all your songs are worthless if you don't start actually singing them. SME recorded the background-tracks for two songs already. You haven't sung a single syllable yet."

Jude was aware of that. She had her issues singing in front of someone other than Tommy. But pride and shame kept her from confiding in Rick. "I told you I had a sore throat...and..." she coughed a fake cough, "I don't think I've recovered.

"This morning I heard you yelling at Wally for stealing your sandwich."

"A terrible thing I did there," she agreed wholeheartedly, gladly playing the culprit if it served as a good excuse. "Made my throat all worse again."

"Jude, you have twenty-four hours to..._fix your throat_. If you don't sing by then, we'll have to find someone who can."

As he walked out, she stared at his retreating figure. She wanted to toss a brick at him for being so condescending. She wanted to hit him with a stick for being so arrogant. But most of all, she wanted to punch him squarely in the face for pointing out the obvious: She was a failure and could not sing in front of anyone except Tommy.

She dialed his number. He answered after the first ring. "I'm screwing it all up."

"Jude?"

She heard background voices. Female background voices. "Are you alone?"

"Jude, I can barely hear you. Is everything okay?"

"Tommy?" There was rustling and giggling and then a loud thud. All sounds disappeared. "Hello?"

"Hey babe. Now I can here you. Sorry, I was a in the middle of a...a _thing_. I'm in my office now. Is everything alright? You usually don't call before six pm."

"Am I interrupting something? If you need to get back to your _thing_," She rolled her eyes at his mysteriousness. "whatever it is-"

"It's a _thing_ that I can't talk to you about because Darius threatened to sue me if I speak to you about anything that's concerning G-Major. He took your departure very badly. Consider yourself a traitor in his eyes. And Chaz is the enemy that stole his most priced possession."

Jude was confused. "Darius hates me. He doesn't even know I can sing!"

"Well, he knows now. If you wanted to sing, he told me, you should have come to him."

"About that...I'm really not singing at all. And because of that, I might just end up getting fired." She held the phone more tightly, substituting it for his hand that was too far away. "I tried singing, Tommy. The words don't want to come out. Each time I step in front of the microphone, everything gets foggy and I think about my parents telling me I'm not good enough and the press labeling me a fame-whore. I see Portia laughing at me and – and I see you, telling me to sing, and then I see myself disappointing you."

"What songs have you written?"

She shrugged, though he really couldn't see her. "Songs...about you," she admitted timidly. "About us. About moving to New York. About being a failure. Oh, and one about two cockroaches that live in my room."

"I'd love to hear that one," he chuckled.

That sound alone immediately lightened her mood. If only she could see his face, touch his hands, taste his lips...

"Write a new one. Not a song, really. Write a story. Your producer wants to know why you have a hard time, so tell him. In your own way. And if you can't sing in front of a microphone, then sing somewhere else. Start slowly. Remember when you sang for me, the first time? I felt as though you were telling me a story about your life. And if you can't forget your past, then sing right back in its face. Sing to the press, to Portia, to your parents. Sing to everyone. Tell them why you stopped before and why you're not stopping anymore."

By the time he stopped talking she had tears in her eyes. "I miss you so much."

He didn't need to answer to tell her he missed her too. She could hear in the way he breathed. There was a slight hitch. An irregularity. A sign that her words affected him.

Jude gulped hard. "I want to ask you something-"

"Before you do, there's something I need to tell you. I had a long talk with Laura the other day. I apologized for everything that happened and while we're no friends, we did bury the hatchet. Anyway, she wanted me to tell you that she doesn't blame you for what happened. She wanted you to know that."

Jude felt a huge rock being lifted from her shoulders. "She did? You're not just saying that to make me feel better?"

"No," he assured. "She meant it." A moment of silence passed before he asked, "what did you want to tell me?"

"Ask. I wanted to ask you something but it's not important." She wanted to ask him about the roses he bought. For whom they were. But she decided against it. Another time, maybe. She could hear a knocking over the phone.

Tommy groaned. "Darius is calling for me. I got to go. I'll call you tonight, okay?"

"Promise?"

"Promise."

xxxxxxx

He didn't call. Jude had stayed up, afraid to miss his call but the phone just didn't ring. Something must have happened, she thought worriedly, waisting time idly googling herself, Tommy and everything else that came to her mind. The nice thing about having a famous boyfriend was that she didn't need to take pictures of him. Other people did and they had no problem uploading them to the internet to share them with the rest of the world. The downside was, those pictures weren't necessarily the ones a girlfriend liked to see.

Right now she was staring at a set of snapshots taken today – earlier the day, to be exact – in front of his hotel. He left the lobby carrying what she knew was his overnight bag. He was photographed entering a cab, not taking one of his flashy, easily recognizable cars. And he was holding a bag that read "Antonio's". The big, expensive paper bag looked like one of those one got at a designer store. And the name was written in lavishly curled golden letters.

Jude stared at the screen of her notebook, then shut it deftly. She was not jealous. Wherever he was going, she was sure he had a good, valid, legitimate and completely non-dubious reason. The same, she repeatedly told herself, applied for his failure to call.

Reaching for her phone, she dialed his number.

Not available. Mailbox.

She checked the time.

Half past two a.m. in the morning.

Maybe he had his phone turned off and was sleeping. That was a reasonable excuse for not answering right now. Though it did not explain why he had not called earlier.

She was severely tempted to call his hotel and ask them to put her call through when she heard a loud, impatient knocking on the door. Jude looked at the wooden plank over her shoulder. Whoever was on the other side knocked again. Louder.

"Geez, I'm coming," she snapped angrily, not in the mood for late-night visitors. Two nights ago, she and all of SME had been woken up by a vile list of swear words by some Chinese delivery guy who'd apparently been prank-called to their address. At least he'd been willing to hand over the food he'd been carrying for half the price. It would have landed in the trashcan otherwise, leaving him completely empty-handed.

The guy knocking soundly better be carrying some food as well, she thought grimly, unlocking half a dozen locks before pulling the door open. "If this is another prank-call—" The words died on her lips. Right in front of her was a big fancy paper bag with golden letters spelling "Antonio's". The voice behind it sounded slightly muffled. "Happy Three-Month-Anniversary. And by the way," he continued, the bag now in Jude's hands, "thanks for giving me the wrong address. I had to call Chaz – Chaz, who is notorious for not answering phone calls – to find out where you lived!"

Jude was still too startled to speak. Both hands clutched the paper bag as he stepped forward, cupped her face and kissed even the last of her remaining wits away. "Damn, I missed you!" Another kiss and another one and then one more. Jude gave up. She dropped the bag, curled her arms around his neck and let him scoop her up. She vaguely remembered that she didn't live alone so she pointed for the last door on the right at the end of the hallway. "My room," she murmured as his tongue was greedily exploring her mouth. Articles of clothing got lost along the way and once they were safely locked inside her room, he sat her down on the edge of her bed, fingers unclasping her belt and jeans buttons. "Did I accidentally swallow your tongue?" His crooked grin made her feverish with anticipation and desire.

For the first time since arriving, Jude voiced more two syllables. "But…the red roses…the overnight bag...the giggles...I don't understand."

"Neither do I," he admitted, his mouth suckling on the delicate skin across her collar bone. "What flowers?"

"Red roses. You bought them. I saw the picture."

The suckling stopped for a brief moment. He seemed to think about it, then chuckled. "Oh." His lips returned to her neck. More voraciously this time. She dug her nails into his shoulder blade. "They were for Sadie. I wasn't supposed to get photographed. She's pretending to have a secret admirer. Long story."

"And the giggling on the phone earlier? Did you really have a _thing_ at G-Major?"

He paused once more, but not before flicking his tongue along her earlobe. Jude shivered. "I was at the mall, buying your present. Turns out I still have groupies. I had to hide in a changing room." Her jeans was gone now, so where her socks, his pants and his shoes and socks. "More questions?"

"And why didn't you call me earlier?"

"Stuck at customs. You'll understand once you unwrap your gift."

Her wide-eyed curiosity he replied to with a searing kiss and a bashful smile. "But that can wait." His fingertips found the clasp of her bra. "Right now I have a different unwrapping in mind."

And that was the last of their conversation for a while. What followed where hushed murmurs, low moans and a very guttural scream when Tommy proudly performed what he'd learned one lonely night accidentally watching a lesbian porn movie he'd mistaken for an independent art film.

As his mouth and face retreated from her most private parts, she stared at him, utterly exhilarated yet not nearly satisfied. "Whoa!"

"I'm not done yet." It had been a two-hour movie consisting of nothing but girl-on-girl action. "Better catch some breath while you can!" He'd learned a lot that night...


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 24. I Sang a Song Today.

Sitting on the comfy chair in front of the soundboard, Jude chewed on her fingernails. With both legs pulled up and tugged close to her, she watched the two men outside the studio chatting away as though she wasn't even here. Tommy was wearing a dark tailored suit, a navy blue tie and black shoes. He looked dashing, like he'd stepped right from some runway. Standing next to him was Rick, wearing Jeans and a grey shirt, looking much like Tommy would if he'd be recording with her today. But no. Tommy wasn't recording with her. He had some fancy business meeting to attend to. Darius had made him do that, as soon as he'd found out that Tommy was in New York. Interestingly, Chaz would attend the same meeting. She wondered what they would talk about. Just like she was wondering why Tommy and Rick were talking outside the studio, away from Jude, when she thought it obvious they were talking about her. What else had they in common, right?

"Damn it!" She flinched, having chewed off one bit too much of her nail. With a heavy sigh she leaned back and closed her eyes for a few seconds, trying to relax. It was useless. So she got up and walked out. 

"…so I walked up to him and told him if wants me to record his shit, he better makes sure it's good shit!"

Rick laughed. "How did Shay take that?"

"What do you think?" Tommy asked sarcastically. "He went straight to Darius."

"Well that's Shay. But hey, at least your guy is singing!"

Tommy nodded slowly. "Jude will sing. She just needs—"

"I just need what?"

"Jude!" Tommy spun around, placed an arm around her and pulled her in for a quick, firm kiss. "Time," he finished his earlier statement. "With a little more time, you'll be rocking the house! You never told me Rick was your producer. He's a great guy. We worked together a couple of years ago."

"Before Tom went to produce in the Big Biz and I—"

"Became stuck with me. Just say it." Jude detangled from Tommy. "Aren't you supposed to at your fancy meeting with Chaz?"

"Chaz is running late. He's driving." Tommy tried to curl his arm around Jude's waist another time. This time she stepped away. Not just he noticed that something was wrong. Rick obviously did the same and politely walked away, leaving Jude alone with her boyfriend. "What's wrong, Babe?"

"You were talking about me. Out here. With me in another room, watching, but not listening."

"That's because you decided to sit in the studio." He gave a confused shrug. "This wasn't a private discussion. And we hardly talked about you at all. It was just the last part, which you overheard."

Jude wasn't convinced. "It doesn't matter anyway, 'cause there really isn't a lot Rick could say about me. It's not like I'm singing or something!"

"Are you mad at me or at yourself?"

Shooting him a glare, Jude declared, "I'm mad at no one!"

"Fine." He saw Chaz walking up and it was probably for the first time ever that he was grateful for that. "My ride is here. I have to go."

"Of course. Besides, it's not like there's any good reason for you to stay around, given that I won't be singing today. Just like I didn't sing yesterday, the day before or any other day since I got here." She picked a loose thread from her shirt and discarded it. "Will you come by after the meeting?"

Not when you're in this mood, he wanted to say but bit his tongue, smiled and nodded.

###

Five hours, no singing and two grumbling stomachs later, Jude found herself sitting in the studio with Rick, mutely eating french fries and hot-dogs. The experience of eating in silence wasn't new to her but being silent while being in the room with somebody else was irritating and so she glanced at Rick every now and then, only to immediately look away when he met her eyes.

When it happened again, he had enough, placed away the food and sat up. "This is getting ridiculous." Tugging away Jude's plate he made her acknowledge him. "Seriously, I get that you can't sing for some reason, but no talking? From what SME told me there are times hardly anyone can make you shut up. So why do I get the silent-treatment?"

"I'm not doing it on purpose," she assured him. "Seriously, it's nothing personal. I guess…I just don't know what to say to you."

"What did you talk with Tom about when you just met?"

"Music," she said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Rick smiled. "Well, I'm a producer too. You can talk music with me."

She shrugged. "It wouldn't be the same." Pulling back her plate, she resumed eating.

"Why are you in New York?"

"Because of the record deal."

"And?" He pressed on. "I mean, you could have gotten a deal in Toronto, or not?"

She barely replied. "It's complicated."

"The press and all."

"Yep."

With an eye-roll he took away Jude's plate once again. "One of these days, people will stop addressing you altogether. You're the most socially inept person I've ever met!"

"I'm not socially inept," Jude snapped, taking her plate and placing it out of his reach. "I'm just not in a good mood today!"

"You haven't been for weeks. You've been pissed off since the moment you stepped into this building. Either someone else is at fault or you're bitching at yourself. Even your boyfriend, who hasn't seen you for weeks, has fled. That should tell you something!"

"Tommy and Chaz are at some business meeting that's taking longer than expected."

Rick reached behind him for his phone, switched it on and held it up for her. It showed a text message from Chaz.

_"Meeting is over. T and I are heading for beers. Join?"_

"The message came four hours ago," Rick informed her.

Jude read the text again. Tommy hadn't written her. He hadn't invited her to join. Maybe she had been a little mean earlier, but was that all it took to make him abandon her for the whole day? That thought was deeply unsettling and brought forth a lot of memories from Toronto. When it had become complicated with Laura, he'd found solace with Jude. And now it got complicated with her. Did that mean he was with someone else? Or that he was looking for someone else? What if he was? What if he wasn't? What reason did he have to make her think he was still busy in some meeting?

Rick put his phone away. "New York isn't a punishment, you know?"

Jude blinked. "Sorry, what?"

"A punishment. It's not. It's how you've been treating this city ever since you got here. I don't know why you're here but I know that a million people would kill to trade places with you right now and you don't even care. We spend the last five hours awkwardly sitting in this paid-for studio, with empty hard-drives ready to be filled with music yet all you did was scribble in your journal another song that nobody will ever get to hear. At some point a decision has to be made. Right now you can make it yourself. But in a week from now, things could be different. Chaz might be your friend, but even he has bills to pay."

She thought about his words, but one question kept popping up in her head. "Why haven't you gone?"

"Where to?"

"Beers with Tommy and Chaz. You're hardly surprised I didn't sing. Instead of waiting for something we both know won't happen anytime soon, you could have had fun with them."

"I wasn't in the mood for beer. Besides, I hoped that Tom's visit might have motivated you to try. You can sing, by the way. And I don't mean your capability of hitting the right notes. I mean you're deliberately not singing. Why?"

Surprised by that statement, Jude stared at him. "I can't sing, Rick. I want to, but I can't."

"No, Jude. You're standing in front of the mic and you don't sing. There's a difference. You're staring at the mic, at this studio, at the whole city of New York as some sort of punishment. If you couldn't sing, you wouldn't be writing songs. You'd give up. I've seen it happen before with other artists. But not you. You simply don't want to sing, but you're hiding behind crappy excuses."

"That's a lie!"

But Rick kept pushing. "No Jude, it's the truth!" He held up her journal. "You refuse to sing. Hundreds of songs written over years but instead of singing them, you're writing them down and locking them away into a book that nobody but you ever gets to read!"

She shook her head, over and over. "You don't know me. Stop pretending you do!"

"There's no pretending, Jude! It's a fact. When you walk up to the mic, you look at it and then you seal your lips with a vengeance." He gathered his stuff and got up. "This is useless. Tomorrow morning, I'll be looking for a new singer. Nice knowing you!"

When he was halfway out the door, she called after him. "She called me a whore." Her eyes were teary and her voice hoarse. "And if I sing, she'll be forever right."

###

Half an hour later, in the booth, Jude sat on the floor, strumming her guitar idly. Rick sat next to her, for the first time since knowing her flipping through the pages of her journal. More than often he'd comment, saying things like "awesome" or "fantastic". She hardly cared. Tommy had said all that and more before.

"So this Portia," Rick asked carefully, "isn't by any chance the same Portia Tom was married to, is she?"

Jude had told him a very vague description of what had happened years ago, in the VIP area of the club. "The very same," she informed him. "Back then somebody interrupted…it…from happening. She said I'd give it all for a record deal. Just like a whore would for money. I slept with a married man, I destroyed a marriage, and here I am, granted the deal of a lifetime because of it. As long as I don't sing…"

"As long as you don't sing," Rick finished, finally understanding, "you haven't completed the deal. And here I thought you were scared of failure."

"I don't fear that anymore."

"Chaz said you are scared that people will never see you as anyone other than the other woman and that they won't buy your song because of it."

She shook her head. "I'm not scared that they won't buy my record. I'm afraid they will all agree with Portia that I'm a whore who sold herself for a record deal. And I don't doubt for a second she'll be the first to tell that to the press."

After a while of more strumming and more flipping through pages, Rick put the journal down in front of her. "She's winning."

Jude stopped playing.

"Every day that you're not singing, she's winning. Every day that you're scared, she's winning. This, right now, your fear of what others will say, is her victory." He got up and stretched. "It's half past six. Lets meet again tomorrow. We'll try again then."

"I'm not fired?"

"You get one more day."

As she heard the door falling shut behind him, she looked at the page he'd read last. And she started strumming.

**[Sara Barreiles, Brave: /watch?v=CGmixpdf7Kw]**

_"You can be amazing you can turn a phrase into a weapon or a drug_

_You can be the outcast, or be the backlash_

_Of somebody's lack of love_

_Or you can start speaking up…"_

###

"I sang a song today. But you weren't there."

Tommy looked up, blinked, and adjusted his eyes to the darkness. He'd stepped inside Jude's room from the illuminated hallway. But she had no lamps on. "Where are you?" He stumbled across a shoe on his way inside, searching for the light switch.

"Bed."

He found the light switch. "Are you okay? You sound strange."

"It's because I've been singing for hours and my voice isn't used to that anymore. I sang, Tommy. Where were you?"

"Getting drunk." If he wouldn't be drunk, he also wouldn't have said that. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realized that. But now the words were out and Jude, understandably, wasn't happy.

"Getting drunk without me while on your visit here to see me."

He sat down and reached for her hand, but she pulled away from him. "Girl, I was out for one afternoon with my friend Chaz. You were in the studio, singing. I don't know what happened, but maybe it was a good thing I wasn't there. Maybe you wouldn't have sung if I had been there."

"How convenient."

"Hey!" He faced her, albeit a building headache and the wish for some rest. "I have been here for you whenever you needed me. Don't make it sound as though I'm never there for you."

"I wasn't trying to do that, Tommy. But you didn't even ask me if I wanted to come as well. Chaz asked Rick, that's how I found out. You let me believe you were still at your meeting."

"No, I wasn't. You were meant to record today. Rick told me how important it is that you record something! I thought you would be busy anyway, so I didn't interrupt you. This wasn't a big conspiracy to keep you busy so I could have beers with Chaz. You were meant to record. You've seen me recording with artists, Jude. You know I hate interruptions. And you want to know what I hate even more? Other producers mingling with my work. So I won't sit in during your recordings. It's a professional thing and nothing personal. If you need help writing a song, I'm all yours. But from my understanding, writing is the last of your problems."

It all sounded logic. Maybe she was overreacting, Jude thought. But there was this tiny, annoying voice in her head that kept doubting him. "Is that really all there was to it?"

He responded firmly. "Yes! I don't know what you think happened."

"Where there women?"

A heavy pause. Tommy stood up, grabbed a pillow. "I'll be sleeping on the couch tonight." Before he was out the door, he stopped. "You know, you spent the entire afternoon — the entire last weeks in the company of men and men only. SME, Chaz and Rick. None of whom is in a relationship. It didn't occur to me once to even think something more than friendship might have happened. Goodnight, Jude."

"That's because I'm not a professional cheater!" She called after him, angrily. But she regretted the words before they were even out. It was the worst, most unfair thing she could have said and she had done it out of spite. He spun around briskly and she could tell he was seething. She felt horrible. "I'm sor—"

"Don't! Right now I really don't care for your apology. I'm this close to saying something that I will regret later." He made a gesture with his hand to highlight just how close to that he was. "So please just let me leave."

Without a further word he closed the door behind him.

###

Two hours later she crept out into the living room, finding him tossing and turning on the uncomfortable couch that was two feet to short for him. Glancing over her shoulder, making sure Wally's, Kyle's and Spied's doors were closed, she turned back, stripped the shirt she was wearing, along with her slip and crawled on top of him. "I'm sorry," she whispered, kissing along his jawline. "So very sorry."

Without a word he sat up, grabbed her legs and pulled them around his waist, bringing her that much closer. Her hands made quick work of his shirt. The wiggling of her body, the way she pressed her naked body against his, aroused him quickly. Catching her lips in a searing kiss, holding her face in place with one hand, he pushed down his boxers with the other one, before entering her swiftly. "I need you," he admitted, shifting, trying to find a rhythm. Lips traveled from her mouth to her neck before finding the desired destination of her chest. First his tongue darted out to wet her right nipple, then he suckled, making Jude gasp for air.

Her hands tangled in his messy hair. He had told her once she was the one person in the whole world allowed to ruin his styled coiffure. She had found it a grand compliment coming from someone who spend more on hair products than on car insurance. And he had many cars! When his teeth gently grazed her nipple she shivered, desperately clinging to him as he kept drilling into her. Faster and faster, as he knew she liked it. As they both liked it. "Almost…almost…" she breathed heavily, "oh yes…"

Then he came, taking her with him.

He collapsed backwards, and she dropped forward, snuggling into his arms. "I love you," Jude hushed, anew kissing his jawline. The skin wasn't quite so soft anymore. The slightest stubble had come forth. It offered an erotic friction, especially in combination with him, still being inside her. "Forgive me. Please. I really am sorry for that silly thing earlier."

He barely nodded.

Jude lifted her head, trying to read his expression. "I am sorry. Please, Tommy." She could tell that he hadn't yet forgiven her.

He rolled her to his side, slipping out of her. "You went there for a cheap shot. And some sex doesn't fix that." Getting up and putting his boxers back on, he took a seat on the love seat across her.

She wrapped a blanket around herself. "Gee, Tommy! I said I'm sorry!"

"That doesn't make it go away, Jude. Do you really think I'd cheat on you?"

"No, of course not!"

"I'm not so sure about that. It's just that…"

His face saddened visibly.

"Earlier today, I had the feeling that…you weren't inviting me for beers because I had been snappish and maybe complicated and…then earlier, when I said what I said, you just walked out. It's why I was so angry. I don't want you to walk away from us because it gets complicated."

For long minutes he just sat there, thinking about her words. With each passing heartbeat Jude grew antsier. Had she said too much? Had she struck a cord?

"Of all the things to hold against me…this one actually hurts." He leaned back, closing his eyes to take a moment. "Funny thing is, I'm exactly where I was when it all began. I'm at G-Major, working with people I royally screwed over, being friends with people whose friendship I probably don't deserve. When you were hiding in my hotel bathroom, smoking and not eating a crumb, I was there. When we had sex while I was married, I didn't run. I came looking for you! I wanted to fix it. When you ran from your own voice, I found you and it was me that said you should speak up! All those weeks since you left I've been laying awake at night, thinking about what I did wrong for you to think that leaving the country was your only option. By God I swear I thought I wasn't a good enough boyfriend and that you deserved better. That I should have paid more attention. Done more. ANYTHING!" He got up. "But you're the one that ran. You're the one that hid in the bathroom, locking me out. YOU are the one that left ME behind. You accuse me of leaving when it gets complicated? " For a long moment he just stared at her. "Well, here's me, leaving. " With that he went into the bathroom, not coming out for a long, long while.

###

The next day, after not bringing Tommy to the airport but merely kissing him goodbye awkwardly, she sat in the booth when Rick arrived. Her journal was positioned in front of her, at the piano. When he entered, she offered the smallest change in her expression. A sign she acknowledged he'd arrived. But now she was finally ready to sing and had no time to say 'hello' first. He must have understood.

"On three," he said, not yet even out of his jacket. Then he pressed a button and gestured a 'three'. And Jude went.

**Two months ago...**

_Jude was lying naked on the bed sheet, wondering how many times it had been used on other hotel guests before and how many of them had had sex on them. It was a disgusting thought, one that automatically came every time she got into Tommy's hotel bed. Next to her, where he usually slept, was a tabloid with a nasty headline about her that featured words like "Gold-Digger" and "Opportunist"._

_Tommy sat on the edge of the bed, scribbling something down._

_"Grocery List?" Jude asked, reaching out with one hand. Her fingertip traced one of the many tattoos he had on his shoulders and upper back. The one that fascinated her the most was a Chinese symbol. "What does it mean?"_

_"Which one," he absentmindedly asked._

_"The one that looks like a stick figure with boobs."_

_She heard him chuckling. "It means 'destiny'."_

_"Destiny," she repeated, letting the word roll from her lips. "Like…destined to make music?"_

_"Something like that." He turned around, handed her her journal, and leaned down to kiss her languidly. "Or meeting the right woman."_

_Jude smiled at that. Then she looked at her journal. "You were reading my songs?"_

_"No." Another kiss. "Writing one. For you." Before she had time to read it, he climbed on top of her, distracting her with wildly erotic kisses._

**Now...**

_"You can be amazing you can turn a phrase into a weapon or a drug_

_You can be the outcast, or be the backlash_

_Of somebody's lack of love_

_Or you can start speaking up_

_Nothing's gonna hurt you the way that words do_

_When they settle 'neath your skin_

_Kept on the inside, no sunlight_

_Sometimes a shadow wins_

_But I wonder what would happen if you_

_Say what you want to say_

_And let the words fall out honestly_

_I want to see you be brave_

_With what you want to say_

_And let the words fall out honestly_

_I want to see you be brave_

_I just want to see you_

_I just want to see you_

_I just want to see you_

_I want to see you be brave_

_Everybody's been there, everybody's been stared down by the enemy_

_Fallen for the fear and done some disappearing_

_Bowed down to the mighty_

_But don't run and stop holding your tongue_

_Maybe there's a way out of the cage where you live_

_Maybe one of these days you can let the light in_

_And show me how big your brave is_

_Say what you want to say_

_And let the words fall out honestly_

_I want to see you be brave_

_With what you want to say_

_And let the words fall out honestly_

_I want to see you be brave_

_And since your history of silence_

_Won't do you any good. Did you think it would?_

_Let your words be anything but empty_

_Why don't you tell them the truth?_

_If you say what you want to say_

_And let the words fall out honestly_

_I want to see you be brave_

_With what you want to say_

_And let the words fall out honestly_

_I want to see you be brave_

_I just want to see you_

_I just want to see you_

_I just want to see you_

_I want to see you be brave"_

When the last piano tunes faded out, she had tears in her eyes. Her fingertips traced the words of the song, written in Tommy's unique handwriting. Touching the words made her feel almost as if she were back in bed with him. "I think Tommy and I are done…"


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 25

"I think Tommy and I are done."

With those words, Jude shut the piano's lid, calmly gathered her belongings and left the room as if nothing had happened.

Chaz turned to Rick. "Did I miss something? I feel like I missed something!"

The producer held up his hands, shrugging defensively. "Don't ask me. I have no idea how that woman works! But," he smirked, "she's given me yet another afternoon off. No artist, no recording…"

"Yeah," Chaz murmured. "Great for you!"

oooooooooooo

"So she hasn't called yet?"

"Nope." Tommy gulped down a solid amount of the beer he had in his hands, wondering not for the first time in the last few minutes how exactly he'd ended up spilling his heart to Shay Mills. But he wasn't complaining. Today was the fifth day since his return from New York. Things between him and Kwest were still a little sketchy and he was in dire need of someone to talk to. So when Shay had sat down next to him half an hour ago, he had not protested.

And so far, Shay had been honest and frank in his advice. "That sucks. You should call her!"

Tommy had called her. Like a love-sick teenager, he had dialed her number a dozen times only to hang up a second later. He missed her, damn it, and of course he wanted to talk with her. He wanted to work things out. He needed to hear her voice. But, just for once, he also wanted Jude to make the first step – hence the hanging up and the continued unsatisfying waiting for his phone to ring. "Is it too much to ask that she calls _me _to apologize?"

"_She_, the girl with severe abandonment issues? Okay, I admit," much to Tommy's surprise and confusion, "I'm to blame for that, but come on. Just give her a call!"

"Why are you to blame?"

Shay frowned. "Isn't it obvious? She was head-over-heels in love with me but I crushed her young, innocent heart and look where that got her! I had so much more experience than she. I should have seen where this was going."

A loud laughter erupted from Tommy. "Are you serious?!"

"I know you don't want to be reminded that I had her first, but-"

"You did not had her first. Let's be absolutely clear about that. You might have gotten a few kisses," Tommy stated so firmly that Shay was startled, "but you did not _have_ her first."

"Jealous, huh?" The glare Tommy gave him had him wincing backwards. "Whatever, man. Chill! But seriously, give her a call. And say 'hi' from me!"

"I'll think about it. But first I'll need another beer." He got up, walked towards the bar, grateful for a moment of silence when in the crowded perimeters of the bar, someone suddenly spun around. He nearly crashed into that person. "I'm so sorry," Tommy stated quickly, only then realizing he was talking to his ex-wife. "Laura? Uh…hi."

"Er…what are you doing here?"

He held up his empty beer glass, quipping, "thirsty."

"Are you okay, Laura?" A tall, blond thirty-something year-old guy in a tailored suit and pink tie curled his arm around her shoulder, then glanced at Tommy. "Hey, I'm Josh."

"Tom," Tommy replied. "Date?" He smiled at Laura, slightly uncomfortable.

She nodded just as awkwardly. "How's Jude?"

"Busy, in New York."

A moment passed in silence before Laura tugged on her date's arm. "Let's go. See you around, Tom."

As he watched her vanish into the crowd he finally made it towards the bar and ordered his Vodka. He took out his phone and dialed the number that seemed to haunt him these days. This time he didn't hung up, but ended up speaking to the mailbox. "I just ran into Laura," he said, skipping any form of introduction. "I exchanged about five words with her and that's more than we talked during the last five days. Call me when you get this. Please!" He swallowed his drink at once, ordered another one and made his way back to Shay. In his slightly drunken state, however, he forgot his phone at the bar.

oooooooooooooo

Of all the things in the world that could possibly go wrong that night, Tommy thought, as he stood in front of his ajar apartment door, being robbed was the last thing he wanted to happen. Then again, maybe the thief would steal some of the hideous butterflies Laura had left behind! Gently nudging the door open, something he might not have done had he been sober, he glanced around but couldn't see anything. Then he entered, one tentative step at a time. Everywhere he looked, unpacked boxes were obstructing his view. Laura's stuff. She'd moved out two days ago and he had moved in yesterday. Right next to her boxes were his own, waiting to be unpacked. A few weeks ago, he would have done it immediately, with enthusiasm. But as much as he'd wanted to return to his apartment, the situation with Jude had capped his spirit. He followed the light into his bedroom, held his breath when he heard sounds but no thieves were there. Wrapped in a blanket, he found Jude instead. She was snoring softly, hugging his pillow.

A sigh of relief escaped him. Befuddled as his mind might be, he did know that, in his current tipsy state, a bulky thief would have had the upper hand. And instead of Laura's butterflies, a thief most likely would have taken his golden records, his rare vinyl collection and his assortment of Rolex watches. So thank God this wasn't a thief! Just Jude. His Jude. He flipped the light off, no longer remembering that his front door was still wide open. Kicking off his shoes, he crawled on top of the bed, curled up behind her and wrapped one arm tightly around her to hold her close. "You're here," he murmured before drifting off into sleep.

oooooooooooooo

Sadie stood in his bedroom's doorway and snapped picture after picture of the cuddling couple in front of her. One of Jude's socks was wedged between the back of her knee and Tommy's shin. A bit of drool was on Tommy's left arm, the one Jude used as a pillow. A blanket was bunched around both their hips. All around them were moving boxes, bags with clothes and some wallpaper and carpet samples Sadie had left behind yesterday morning after Tommy had informed her he wanted all traces of femininity gone from his place. Right now she was here because in the middle of last night some snarky 'reporter' from the National Inquirer had called via Tommy's phone to ask whether the phone he had just bought from a bartender for two thousand dollars was indeed that of her boss and whether or not he liked to comment on some of the text messages on said phone.

"Well," Sadie had assured, "I will find out immediately and get back at you." Then she'd hung up, slept two more hours and now was here to inform her boss that soon, if not already, there would be a story on the National Inquirer's website about Tommy's and Jude's dirty texting fetish because when she had initially answered the phone last night by saying, "Quincy, why the hell do you call in the middle of the goddamned night?" she'd given that reporter all the confirmation he needed.

Sadie took another picture of Jude's drool, a close up this time. Then she pinched her sister's nose, effectively waking her up. With her awoke Tommy. "What a cute couple you are."

_Snap! _Yet another picture.

Reaching across her sleepy sister into the back pocket of a not yet fully awake Tommy, Sadie snatched his wallet. "I'll be out buying groceries for breakfast. You guys have nothing, and with that I mean, _absolutely __nothing _eatable at home_._ Thanks for not telling me you're back, by the way, Jude. Oh, and don't Google yourselves until I'm back…"

As Sadie sashayed out of the apartment, Jude shifted in her position, meeting Tommy's wide, still foggy eyes. "Hey…"

He smiled lazily. "Hi."

She bit her lower lip, gnawing on it nervously. "You cuddled with me tonight. Does that mean you don't hate me?"

Instead of answering with words, he leaned up, grabbed her head and pulled her in for an earth-shattering kiss. It was neither sweet nor slow, nor languid or gentle. It was a desperate kiss, trying to express what he couldn't yet translate into words. Tongues met with equal fervor as Jude quickly climbed on top of him. "Sadie will be back soon," he groaned, his hands nonetheless rapidly undressing the woman he'd longed for so deeply during the last couple of days.

Jude shook her head, making his lips leave hers. He suckled on her neck. She moaned as her eyes rolled back. "She's…mmmmhhh…got your money and…aaaahhhh…credit cards…don't stop!…we'll have hours…" She gently nibbled on his earlobe, then bit down a little too harsh when he swirled his tongue over one pointy, hard nipple.

In a sudden move he rolled her onto her back, pushed his pants and boxers down just enough to be free to do what he couldn't wait for, not even a second. With one firm thrust he buried himself inside her. She called out his name, arching against him, wantonly pushing herself further into his arms, breathlessly begging him for more. His right hand traveled up and down her leg while his other hand expertly fondled her breast. His tongue was dueling almost for life and death with hers, mimicking in her mouth what he was doing elsewhere with more force. Jude came quickly, hard and powerful, right with him. She held on to him with all the power she had left, wanting his skin touching hers and not wanting him to slip out just yet. Not when so much was left unspoken between them and when the chance was so big that this wasn't a reunion but a last hurrah. "Don't let go," she whispered.

He didn't.

"I'm sorry for everything." Now that she had him so close, Jude couldn't stop the words from bubbling out. "After you left, I thought we had broken up. That's why I didn't call. But I don't want us to be over. You're one of the very few things in my life that's good. You're the best thing I have in my life and I won't allow anyone to take you away from me. I won't allow my fear to stand in our way, either. Not anymore. I know I was stupid when I said you weren't there for me. You're always there for me, I know that. But I wasn't there for you. Chaz told me how hard it must have been for you, after the divorce. Everyone was coming after you as well. You had bad headlines too, but you faced them while I ran away. I won't do that anymore. I don't want to run away anymore—"

"Well, keep that thought," Sadie interrupted the almost naked couple as she covered her eyes with one hand while carrying a bunch of groceries with the other. "There's a bit of a thing we need to discuss. Dressed, if possible. I'll be in the kitchen."

"I'm in the middle of fixing my relationship with Tommy," Jude snapped while covering herself and Tommy with a hastily grabbed blanket. "Can't this wait?"

"How did you even get in here?" Tommy asked, both his arms still wrapped around Jude, who smiled warmly at him.

Sadie no longer covered her eyes. "That's part of the problem. Get dressed." With that, she left the room.

ooooooooooooooo

Jude emerged first, wearing nothing but an old shirt from Tommy's and, Sadie dearly hoped, at least some form of underwear. Tommy followed right behind her, wearing sweatpants and nothing else. Sadie swallowed a sigh. She had to give it to him: the guy had some killer abs! She mentally kicked herself and refocused her thoughts on the problem at hand.

"You didn't bring any butter?" Jude rummaged through the bag of groceries. "Just bagels? What am I supposed to put on them?"

Sadie ignored the snarky tone. "You have bigger problems than that." She gave Tommy his wallet back. "You, Quincy, forgot your phone in the bar last night. A bartender sold it to a reporter, who will – or might have done already – publish a story about you two and your fondness for dirty texting. Which, I guess is a good thing, because on my way towards the bakery just now I stumbled across a tabloid that featured pictures of a certain ex-boybander in conversation with his ex-wife at a club last night. The headlines suggest that _Jommy_ is history. But luckily for you two I just twittered a you guys snuggling earlier today. That should at least squash the break-up stories. The dirty texting however..."

"Hold up!" Jude interrupted Sadie. "You put pictures of me and Tommy online? Of us, sleeping together?"

Sadie shrugged. "The keyword is 'sleeping'. Not having sex. You guys are fully clothed! I was just trying to help you!"

"But creating more headlines?!"

Tommy walked up behind Jude, and wrapped his arms around her. "It will be okay. Trust me."

Jude relaxed against him. "I just hoped we'd have at least a few days to ourselves before the chaos hits again."

"Five minutes ago, you professed to Tommy that you don't want to run anymore," Sadie reminded her sister. "This is your opportunity, Jude. Face the headlines."

"I really want to do that. I just don't know how..."

oooooooooooooooo

"A Rolling Stone story?" Jude gulped, and clutched Tommy's hand with desperation. "No, Darius. I don't work for you. I don't have to agree to this."

"Tom works for me," her former boss pointed out. "And I spoke to Chaz. He agrees. It will give you a chance to address some rumors and direct attention to your upcoming album. An album," he added bitterly, "I would have been very happy to release. But you never came to me..."

Squeezing Jude's hand reassuringly, Tommy spoke up. "Let's do this story, Jude. I know the reporter. He writes fair. We can get our side of the story out and hopefully the world begins to see you the way I see you: as a wonderful, loving, upright person who got caught up in something none of us was prepared for."

"Tom is right." Darius agreed. "Starting tomorrow, Greg will follow you around for a few days and we'll see how it works out."

"I really don't have much of a choice, do I?" Jude begrudgingly agreed.

"No," Both Darius and Tommy replied in unison.

ooooooooooooooooo

TBC SOON!


	27. Chapter 27

"So this is a professional interview, huh?" Jude glanced at the clock on the wall, then sighed. She was lying on the couch in Tommy's G-Major office, feet pulled up. Her eyes wandered around the room, eventually landing on the reporter sitting in one of the visitor's chairs. He was thirty-something years old, had longish hair, a lean figure and a large notepad resting in his lap. "I feel like I'm in therapy and you're expecting me to spill my heart to you."

"Feel free to spill," Jeff, the Rolling Stone reporter encouraged. His face was easy to look at, sexy maybe, but compared to Tommy, every other man lacked. "Just don't expect me to keep it to myself," he added with a sly grin.

"Very reassuring." She took a closer look at him. "You know, I almost became a reporter once. I initially wanted to work at SOLID magazine. But then Tommy snatched me up."

"Really?" He scribbled something down. "Tell me more about that. I always wondered how Shay Mills' teenage sweetheart ended up working for Canada's hottest producer."

"Are you looking for a scandal or will this be a nice article?"

"Neither. I plan on writing the truth. I don't care much for the rest." He stopped scribbling. "You do know Rolling Stone Magazine, do you not?"

Jude felt insulted. "Of course I do!"

"Just wondering. Then you should know that we try to be fair."

She did know that. Actually, she had spent the better part of last night thinking about just that. Tommy and Chaz had suggested that she should use this opportunity to get her side of the story out. Not just the most recent story of her and Tommy, but all of it. All the way back to the time she had dated Shay. And a part of her wanted that. She was so tired of running from her past and her mistakes. She wanted them all out and start fresh. But a new beginning required courage and she wasn't sure she had that. She also wanted to be sure that she told her story to someone who wrote it down truthfully. "Can I ask you something? Off the record, so to say?"

Jeff placed the notepad aside. "Sure."

"If I told something really outrageous; something that is true, but hard to believe, would you write that down? I mean, would you print it?"

"I don't write fiction. I don't write revenge stories or take-down pieces. Convince me you're telling me the truth and I will write it."

"Convince you." She pondered his words. "How would I do that? Let's say I don't have evidence."

"You've got my attention now, I gotta tell you! What is this all about? Illegal activities? Affairs? Illicit behavior? Give me at least a tip."

She shook her head with a smile. "I need something from you first."

"What?"

"Complete honesty. If you had to tell my story based on what you know about me right now, without asking for any confirmation or further details, what would that story sound like?"

He took a minute, then answered uprightly. "Talented musician falls in love. Causes divorce. Gains record deal. Breaks under pressure. Something like that. I'm here to fill the blanks. Are you telling me I've got it wrong somewhere?"

"You've got it all wrong," she pointed out, then leaned forward, and reached beneath the couch to pull out a large manila envelope.

Jeff eyed it curiously. "How would it sound like coming from you? How would the right story sound like?"

"In one sentence? Sex, drugs and Rock'n'Roll." She still held on the envelope. "Darius asked you to write this story. Does he have approval over it?"

"No."

"And if he found out what you're writing about, could he stop the publication?"

"No. Seriously, Jude - you have me on the edge of my seat!"

She ignored his excitement. "When you arrived, I saw you talking to Portia Mills. Do you know her personally?"

"We've met on some occasions. But it's work only. I swear, on my profession as a reporter, I'm having no relationship whatsoever with her. Why is that important?"

"One last thing. Before you tell anyone about anything I tell you, and that includes your editor as well as my friends, family or even Tommy, you need to ask for my permission first. Most of what I'm about to tell you nobody knows about. So, before it goes public, there are some people who deserve to be prepared."

"I promise."

Jude took a deep breath. Her hands were shaking slightly and she still wasn't sure she was doing the right thing. After spending the better part of her last few months hiding from the public and its opinion of her, she was about to hand over what no doubt would become a giant story. She asked for one last favor. "Don't judge me. Just tell my story." Then got up from the couch. "I need some fresh air. I'll be in the parking lot. Take your time with what's in there. When you're ready, I'd like to take you somewhere. You can take pictures if you want." She left him after that.

...

"Hey, Girl." Tommy had seen her emerging his office. He'd followed her out into the parking lot, where she sat on the hood of his car. "How is it going with Jeff?"

"Easier than I thought. I just gave him the envelope." She wiped some tears from her eyes, only now noticing she was crying. All those years she'd kept the pictures in there, and all the memories, the guilt and the fear, a secret. And now it was out there, in the hands of a reporter. It was as much liberating as it was frightening. "It's still the exact envelope Portia sent me. It feels like a lifetime has passed since then." She made a sudden move to grab his hand. "Tommy, if this blows all up in my face, will you still be there? I mean...you could lose your job over this. Portia is D's sister and..."

He interrupted her by gently touching her cheek with his other hand, turning it just an increment so he could meet her quivering lips with his steady ones. He pressed them gently against hers, trying to reassure her, to soothe her. "Jude, I love you. I will always be there for you. And I don't care what Darius will do."

"I am so sorry for New York," she blurted out. "You've been nothing but amazing to me and I almost screwed it all up. We were interrupted the other day by Sadie. I hadn't planned on falling asleep in your bed that night. I wanted to wait for you. To apologize and to explain. But then I smelled your pillow and suddenly I was so tired. I always get tired when I smell you. I told Sadie and she laughed at me. She doesn't understand. But when I smell you, I feel home. It doesn't matter if I'm here, or in the middle of the desert or even on the moon. You're my home. Because with you, I feel so safe. Nobody can hurt me when you're there. Not because you would stop them, but because I don't care for their words or actions. You love me and that's all that matters to me." She flung herself into his arms and buried her face into his neck, breathing him in. "I am so sorry that I moved to New York. I left you to fend for yourself and I won't do that anymore. We will fight together from now on, I promise. Just like we did before, when I was still your assistant. I will have your back and I know you will always have mine."

Tommy tightened his hold on her, pulling her deeply into his embrace. "Babe, you need to stop apologizing." He kissed her head and stroke her back. "I'm not mad at you. I understand why you left and you didn't leave me behind. We both agreed at that time that leaving was the best idea." Her head leaned back and she met his eyes. He smiled warmly at her. "And I shouldn't have said the things I said to you in New York. They were selfish and wrong-"

"True," Jude protested.

"No, they were not. Jude, when everyone doubted me, you were the only one in the world who had faith in me. In New York...I had missed you like crazy and I knew I had to leave for Toronto again and I tried keeping my distance...I should have been in the studio with you...and I didn't call you after I left because of my pride and-"

"We both made mistakes back then."

"And," he spoke truthfully, "we will make more. But I need you to know that I will always love you. So, whatever happens, never ever think for just a second I would give up on us. I will never do that."

She kissed him fiercely. "I will never give up on us, either. I love you."

...

Jeff had just put the envelope into his bag when the door to Tommy's office opened. He stood up, getting ready to find Jude, and didn't expect the person that entered. "Portia."

"Jeff. I saw Jude leaving a few minutes ago and wondered why you didn't follow."

He placed his messenger bag over his shoulder. "And you also thought that you had a right to know about why I didn't follow?"

She smiled. "You know me. I notice everything."

"I know you. You yearn to know everything. Do you want something in particular?"

"How is it going with Jude?"

"Why do you care?"

"She's my...uh...she's..."

He chuckled. "She's your nephew's ex-girlfriend who is currently dating your ex-husband while giving an interview on the premises of your brother whom she no longer works for. I really don't think she's any of your business. Bye, Portia." Jeff walked passed her and wondered what role Portia Mills played in Jude Harrison's life. Jude had asked for his relationship with Portia and Darius' influence over his story. Then there were the pictures she'd given him. Pictures of a younger Jude, drunk, maybe drugged, scarcely clad, in the arms of someone that seemed vaguely familiar. Whatever the story of Jude's life was, he couldn't wait to find out.

...

"This is my room." Jude stood in the doorway of her childhood home, watching Jeff as he looked around. "Like I said, you can take pictures if you want."

"Will you tell me the story behind the pictures in the envelope?" He took a seat on her bed.

Jude crossed her arms and shrugged with one shoulder. "I want to. And I'm going to. I'm just not sure what the story is, yet. I told someone my version of events and that person jumped to my defense and told me how I've been played that night and how I've been used and fooled and betrayed."

Jeff was taking notes again.

"But it's not true," Jude continued. She spotted an old photograph of her and her sister and gave it to Jeff. "This is me at fifteen. It was taken a few days before Shay and I broke up. I guess my story starts with him." She took a seat on a chair. "We dated for a few weeks but actually, it were only a few days. He was away most of the time. I didn't mind. I was fifteen. He was my first boyfriend and I was in love. I don't even know if I was in love with him or just in love with the idea of having a boyfriend. I thought he was in love with me as well. Everyone in school told me he'd have a different groupie every night and would never be faithful. But I didn't want to believe that. He wasn't Shay Mills the superstar to me. He was my boyfriend. Then he came back from tour and D had a party or something like that. I just walked in. My name was on the guest list. Some assistant must have forgotten to take it off. I looked around for him and spotted him kissing somebody else. I was really mad at him but even more at myself for not listening to everyone who tried to warn me. I went to the press and D found me just as I was about to spill the beans on everything. He kicked me out and I thought I was done with that family."

"You thought?" Jeff had crossed his legs, stopped writing down and instead recorded her story with his phone. Jude didn't mind. He handed her back the picture. "You didn't expect to work for Darius one day?"

Jude sputtered a laugh. "Yeah, that too." She took a deep breath. "While I had looked for Shay, I accidentally opened the wrong door and I found Portia, doing coke and giving somebody else a blow-job. At that time, I really didn't care. I barely knew Portia. I couldn't have cared less for what she was doing. But Portia knew me as little as I knew her and she didn't know that I didn't care or wouldn't tell anyone. A few weeks after Shay and I broke up, she gave me a call." Jude stopped with her story and got up, surprising Jeff, who was furiously filling his notepad.

"Keep talking," he urged. "I want to know what happens next!"

"The pictures happen next. But like I said, I don't know how to tell that part of the story. Have you ever felt that strange awareness, this feeling...I don't know how to describe it. You're in a moment and something is happening and you just know that the decision you're making next will define your life forever. That night, when Portia took me out, there was a moment like that. Maybe I was naïve or maybe I deliberately turned a blind eye that night. Portia offered me drinks and I didn't refuse them. Not long and I was drunk. Then there was this guy who flirted with me...Portia said he would offer me a record deal if he liked me. At first I thought 'like' meant finding me funny or something. Then there were drugs and the whole atmosphere changed. From that point on I knew that 'like' had an altogether different meaning. Nobody had to explain or define what was expected from me to get this record deal. He began kissing me and Portia started snapping pictures. That's the pictures in the envelope. And that's about as far as it went that night. I and he...we never...we got interrupted. He got angry, Portia got angry too. I don't remember much of it. Later that night at home I stood in front of my mirror, crying in shame. If we hadn't been interrupted – I don't know if I would have stopped him that night. I really wanted the record deal."

"A record deal," Jeff said carefully, "is really not that hard to come by. There are other ways than, um-"

"Sleeping with someone to get one?" She nodded. "I know. My entire life up to that night I wanted to become a singer. I grew up wanting nothing else. Then, a few months before that night, I was offered a chance to participate in a contest. I actually stood a chance at winning. All it took was a signature from my parents. But they were having a crisis at that time. My mom didn't want me to sing and my dad didn't want to piss off my mom. I didn't get the signature. The contest took place without me. Somebody else won. I was fifteen years old. I saw my last chance going up in flames. I had no family to support my wish; I had angered Darius, who has a big influence in the industry – I was desperate and drunk and high on drugs. I was disappointed in life. I was lonely. I wanted this record deal more than anything. I'm not proud of it. I'm anything but proud. I was so ashamed of myself that night that I stopped singing completely. I had been on the verge of selling myself. I had sold myself! We were interrupted. In the end it was luck that saved me! Nothing else."

"And the pictures?"

"They arrived a day later. It was Portia's late response to my accidentally finding her that day at day at D's. A warning was attached to it: Never tell anyone and stay as far away from her and her family as possible or she'd publish the pictures. I didn't need the warning. I was done with all of it."

"Until you met Tommy?"

"That," she sighed with a smile, "is an entirely different story. We met by chance and fell in love. It wasn't planned. When I met him, he was my way out of the shell I had lived in. He pushed my boundaries. But he taught me some lessons I desperately needed."

"Like?"

"That it's okay to make mistakes."

Jeff chuckled. "He would know. He made plenty of them."

"And he knows it," Jude immediately pointed out. "Tommy isn't perfect. But he knows that. He tries to make up for every mistake that he makes. He tries to keep his word. He tries to be a good person. He does a lot of things in his own way and some people will never understand him. But he is one of the very few people in my life that I trust with my life."

"How can you trust him?" He asked not to rile her up, but because he genuinely wondered. "He's cheated on every relationship that he had in his life. It's a fact. How can you say he won't cheat on you?"

"Because he loves me. I've never had anyone in my life who loves me the way Tommy does. A lot of people will call it crazy or stupid and maybe even arrogant. But I know it. I can see it in every look that he gives me. I can taste it in every kiss. And I can feel it in every touch. And I really hope he knows that I love him just as much."

"You don't think Laura would have said the same, before he cheated on her?"

"It's not my business to speculate on Laura's feelings," Jude said diplomatically. "But off the record: No, she wouldn't. And if you ask her, she will tell you exactly that. Tommy and I never meant to fall in love. But it happened. We never meant for Laura to get hurt. And I know that she knows that I will forever regret having put her through it. But I will not feel sorry for being with Tommy."

Jeff held up his hands. "Hey, I never asked you to. Look, how about lunch? I think we could use a break and something to eat."

Jude nodded. She could use a pause and a change of location as well. All the questions about her relationship with Tommy had tensed her up. And finally telling a reporter about her past mistakes had been hard enough already. "Pizza? I know a great place..."

...

"Have you ever met Tommy?" Jude munched on a few fries as she glanced at Jeff, who finished a burger.

"Not really. I've seen him around. But I don't think we ever talked. Why?"

Jude shrugged. "Just curious. You want another coke?"

Jeff nodded, and Jude waved over the waitress. "Hey, I'd like another diet coke and a regular for him."

"Sure," the waitress smiled. "Can I ask you something? You're it, right? The affair?"

Jeff blinked in surprise as Jude blushed and looked down. "Yes, um, it's me. Can we please get the drinks?"

"Yeah, coming right up. You look much chubbier in person. I mean that nicely," she quickly pointed out. "Just...never mind, I'll get your order."

When she disappeared, Jeff chuckled. "Does this happen often?"

"Too often." Jude took another bite of her food. "Tommy said I'd get used to it, but I doubt it. I find it rude, to be honest, that people always feel the need to comment on me. But every time I point out that I am none of their business, they get snappy and tell me that's the price I pay for wanting to be famous. I don't want to be famous. I never wanted to be. I wanted to be known for my music. Not for my private life. I don't mind people telling me my music is bad or my show sucked. But when they tell me my hair looks unwashed, my teeth are too yellow or when they ask me why Tommy fell in love with me because obviously I don't deserve someone like him, I get annoyed. I'm just not allowed to let anyone know," she said disappointed.

"Is that the reason you had issues with your weight before you left for New York? There are rumors you were anorexic." He pulled his notepad out again.

"I wasn't anorexic. I was trying to be everything people wanted me to be. Tommy wanted to introduce me to his life and the people there were different than the ones I used to hang around with. I used to be tough," she remembered. "I used to be able to handle everything. But he left his wife for me. I didn't want him to think he needed to leave his entire life behind. His friends sided with Laura, which I get. Absolutely. But it left me feeling like an intruder. I lost a lot of self-esteem during that time. And when you're feeling like you're the worst person in the world, with the whole world telling saying that you're not good enough, it's not a good time to enter a boutique," she joked. "I needed something to wear for the places Tommy took me too and I was told that I was not thin enough to pull off most of the looks. Normally I would have laughed or just walked out. Old Jude would gone to the Grammy's wearing ripped jeans and Chucks. But I had no strength left to be old Jude. I just wanted to be left alone and figured if I fit into the right dresses and just smiled, standing in nobody's way, people would cease to notice me. I'd be one of the group and not stick out. I was wrong. Not only did I not fit in, I also had everyone worrying about me. I needed to go to New York because I couldn't bear hearing my name anymore. Too many people took an interest in me, whether it was genuine concern or just the need for new gossip. It was too much. And Tommy was the one who suggested New York. He stayed behind because he knew if he came along, the attention would follow as well. But New York didn't change things. I had run away and that didn't feel any better. Which is why I'm here today, with you. I don't want to run anymore. I just want everything out there. All the mistakes, the facts, the misconceptions. I want to be me again. I want to be tough again."

"By admitting to a lot. What if people misunderstand or judge you wrongly?"

"Then it's okay. I've told my side of the story. I don't care, to be honest, for people's opinion. Or at least I try not to. I just want to start over and not worry that one day another piece of the puzzle will make it's way into the newspapers. If it's all out, I can put that part of my life to rest. I can move on and not worry that it will one day come back. And if it does, I won't have to answer to anyone anymore. Because I've already said all there is to say."

"This will make headlines. Portia Mills...she's not famous, but people know her and her brother."

"It will be her turn to answer some questions."

"Let's talk about Tommy and you. You said you just fell in love?"

"Yes," she replied honestly. "I don't know how else to describe it. We met, we clicked and then it happened. I didn't want to be the other woman. I had a lot of prejudices when I started working for him. But he was brutally honest about himself and his flaws. He told me very early that he knew he would screw up in his marriage. But he wanted to try and make it work anyway, hoping he might be wrong. And he never blames anyone but himself for his mistakes. He blames himself for a lot of stuff that isn't his fault."

"Where you friends with Laura?"

Jude took a moment to answer that one. "I admired her for putting her faith in Tommy. I like her a lot. She's one of those people who are just incredibly nice and fair and extremely understanding. And she doesn't deserve what I did to her. I would like to make up for what I did to her. I hope that one day she will let me."

"I would like to talk with Tommy, your sister and some other people if it's okay."

Jude nodded. "I will tell my family tonight. You can talk with them tomorrow. Tommy...he knows. You can talk to him whenever you want. But if we're done for the day," she said as she placed some dollar bills onto the table, "I'd like to go now. Darius has been very fair to me lately and I think he deserves that I tell him first before he finds out about this from your paper."

"Thanks for the interview, Jude."

"No problem. Thanks for listening."


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 27

"Jude, are you here?" Tommy gave his apartment door a gentle nudge and it fell shut behind him. As he tried spotting her between stacks of packed moving boxes and dozens of discarded shirts and socks — Jude really lived like a teenager! — he made his way towards his bedroom. "Babe, I hear music. Where are you?"

"In here," a muffled voice called from behind the closed bedroom door. "Are you alone?"

He grinned. "Yes. Why, are you naked?"

"Not entirely."

With a sly smile Tommy opened the door to his bedroom and peeked inside. A few candles were lit, and a large Champagne cooler stood on a big box full of packed CDs. He chuckled. While she had certainly set a mood, he wouldn't have minded if she had unpacked as well. But there was time for that later. "What does 'not entirely' mean?" She was still nowhere to be found.

"Take a seat on the bed, I'll be right out." Sounds came from the adjoined bathroom. Then the door creaked open. "Sitting yet?"

"Yep. Naked yet?"

"Be patient, Quincy! Close your eyes."

He closed his eyes. With anticipation he waited for whatever would happen next. The door made noises again, and he felt a presence in the room that was closing in on him. Jude placed her hands on his shoulders and he wrapped his arms around her midriff, effectively pulling her on top of him. Her warm skin was directly underneath his palms and she shivered in his hold. "Can I look now?" Tommy all but pleaded.

"Not yet," she whispered into his ear before biting gently into his earlobe. He growled low in his throat. Jude nudged him backwards. "Stretch your arms out."

When he did, a soft material was wrapped around his wrists. It took him a few seconds to catch on. "Are you tying me up?" His voice was hoarse and he was undeniably aroused. "Cause I'd love to strip first."

Her soft laughter filled the room. A blindfold was wrapped around his head. "All in due time." She went to work on his belt buckle. "You've been an incredibly great boyfriend lately while I've been nothing but moody and depressed and I think it's time I thank you for still sticking with me." She pushed his shirt up and licked his belly button. Then her tongue dipped down. "So, thank you!" She kissed his lower abdomen. Her hand slipped into his boxers. "Mhmm," she moaned, "hard and big…all for me." Her hand wrapped around his erection and gripped him gently, getting a good feeling of him before slowly stroking up and down. "You like this?"

Tommy did like it. Immensely. He liked it so much he couldn't even say so. All he managed were some garbled sounds of pleasure that Jude took as encouragement to go faster. "Oh God…" He began to squirm beneath her. "Let me go," he pleaded, "I want to come inside you." With desperation he tried to control himself, to push out the inevitable.

But Jude was relentless. "Just enjoy."

When he did, she suddenly let go of him. Still blindfolded, he couldn't see what she was doing, but he became abruptly aware of that when a pair of soft, lush lips engulfed the head of his engorged penis. Then her mouth glided down on him, swallowing all of him. He wanted to tell her how much he appreciated this, how much he loved it, but all he got out was a strangled "Ugghh!"

She let go of him with a 'plop'. "Want more?"

Tommy nodded jerkily.

With a smile she licked the entirely length of him from the base to the tip before sucking him into her mouth again. She picked up her pace as she teased his balls by cupping them and fondling them.

"Jude, I'm com…oh don't stop," he begged breathlessly.

Her tongue swirled around his head, tasting the first drops. Then she took him deeply into her mouth again, swallowing all when he came. After he had calmed down again she let go of him and wiped her mouth with her thumb. Tommy's hands were still tied up above his head when she rested her cheek against his shirt-clad chest to hear him catch his breath. As her fingertips drew idle circles on his naked hips, she felt him tug on his restraints. "Oops, forgot about these!" She quickly undid them. And then she loosened the blindfold to find his dazed eyes staring up at her.

In a split second he spun them around and switched positions. From her hand he took what he thought were ribbons only to find it were his two favorite silk ties. "Let me return the favor," said Tommy and knotted her to his bed in just the same position. Sex with her was definitely worth loosing some ties over. "Finally I can enjoy the sight!" And his eyes did feast on her.

Wearing nothing but flimsy lingerie that consisted of so little fabric it barely deserved the name, Jude blushed under his intense gaze.

"So coy all of sudden?" His hands stroked up and down her arms leaving a trail of Goose-bumps in its wake, while he kissed and suckled that very ticklish spot right beneath her earlobe. She shuddered beneath him and he took it as his reward. He bit gently into her neck, soothing the spot with his tongue.

Her legs wiggled beneath his, struggling to make room for him. Finally, she managed to wrap them around his body, bringing him deeper against her yearning core. If only he'd get to the point, Jude thought, but Tommy took his time playing with her. She could feel his hard cock against her mound, separated only by the thinnest layer of fabric imaginable, and yet that frilly piece of clothing made all the damned difference as it kept him from entering her. "I need you," she told him but he only smiled.

"Need me how badly?"

She all but rolled her eyes. "Please, Tommy. I'm begging you, fuck me!"

"Suck a strong word," he chuckled, amused and turned on at the same time. His mouth took hers in a searing kiss. "Tell me exactly what you want me to do," he whispered then, trailing soft kisses down her throat and further, until his lips wrapped around one stiffened nipple that was still covered by her bra. He took the fabric between his teeth and tugged it down, licking and sucking then.

Jude squirmed even more. "I want you inside me, Tommy."

"Tell me more," he encouraged her.

"Deep inside me. I want you to push into me, really deep and…OH" She gasped for air when he did exactly what she wanted him to do. Her panties were pushed out of the way, half-ripped, but she didn't care. With every stroke she came closer to her orgasm. "More, don't stop!"

He didn't stop. His hands gripped her thighs as he thrust into her, again and again, deeper into her warm cave. She came first, thanks to his ministrations but her convulsing core took him right with her.

Tommy's hand was resting on Jude's naked back as his fingertips tapped on her skin in a unique pattern. She had slumbered but his touch awoke her. "Are you playing piano on my skin," she asked him sleepily.

"Sorry," he smiled. "I didn't want to wake you but the piano is all the way down the hall, in the living room. And it's cold and lonely there." He leaned down to kiss her lips. "While in here, it's warm and comfortable." Another kiss. "And there's a naked woman in my arms!".

She smiled as she snuggled deeper into his arms.

"Harrison, I love you. You know that, right?"

She frowned. "I sense a 'but' coming."

"I'd love you much, much more if you unpacked already. I know that these are my boxes. But you offered to do all the unpacking and it's been two weeks since you're back. I don't know if you noticed, but I do like my apartment clean. Or, at least, habitable. Can you please do that tomorrow?"

With a sigh Jude buried her face deeply into the crook of his shoulder. "Icantunpack," she mumbled.

"Why not?"

"Chaz."

Tommy crooked a brow. "What's he got to do with this?"

"Hecalledthismornin'."

"Girl, look at me, I can barely hear you."

She scooted away from him and sat up, covering herself with his bed sheet. This was one of these moments when being covered somewhat decently made things easier. "Chaz called this morning. He told me that we — me and Chaz and Rick — need to finish my album, plus we need to release a single soon and do some concerts. Or else, Chaz will be in financial problems. And

since he's in New York, I have to go back to New York. That's why I can't unpack."

"You have to go back?" He had always known in the back of his head that she officially worked and lived in New York. She wanted to be here with him, but she had signed with Chaz and he was counting on her. "When do you have to go?"

"He booked me a flight for tomorrow morning."

Tommy was stunned. "When were you going to tell me?"

"Tomorrow morning," she admitted timidly. "I don't want to go. For the first time since we're together, I feel like we're actually really happy. Since the Rolling Stone interview, everyone's attention is on Portia and Darius and nobody is bothering us." She fidgeted with a loose thread of his sheet, determinedly not meeting his eyes. "I don't want to go and at the same time, I don't want to disappoint Chaz. He's put so much trust in me. His label is his dream. If I don't go back, he's going to lose it." Tears dwelled up in her eyes. "I don't know what to do, Tommy."

He didn't know either. But whatever happened, he didn't want to be without her again. He sat up next to her and wrapped one arm around her.

She immediately curled up against him. "Suddenly those boxes aren't that bad anymore, huh?"

He smiled sadly. "I'd rather live in a dumpster than let you leave."

"I love you, too."

"We need a solution," Tommy stated. "Producing your album could take months."

"I know." She clung to him.

"Let me come with you then."

"Huh?"

"Me and you, in New York. I'll talk to Darius. I'll take some time off. Or I produce there, for him. I'm sure there's a way. You can do your album. We'd still be together. But that might bring some of the attention with us to New York. Your life wouldn't be so private anymore. And I know you went there to live in private."

"I don't want to go without you. You'd rather live in a dumpster without me? Well, I'd rather live in a tabloid than be without you. Plus, I'm only this tiny on the celebrity scale in New York." She held the tip of her thumb and index finger really close together. "There are much bigger stars than me." With a huge smile she flung herself into Tommy's arms. "You would really come to New York with me?"

"Yep. Just don't expect me to live with you and your band."

"I can't move out," Jude immediately let him know. "Without me, they can't afford the place. We all share a big chunk of the rent."

"Then let's go step-by-step. Same city, different places. We're not living together right now either. You're just crashing here every night."

Jude huffed. "I don't hear you complaining!"

"I wasn't. I'm just saying that after everything we've already been through, let alone how it all began, maybe we should do this like normal people. Date for a while, then move in together and then get married. One thing after the other."

With a nod she snuggled back into Tommy's arms. While she agreed that a slow pace might be good for them she couldn't help but smile at the idea of one day marrying Tom Quincy. And, even more, she liked that after two failed marriages he still hadn't given up on the idea altogether and was open for a third — and hopefully last — try. With her, of course. "So, New York it is."

"Yup, New York it is. You and me."

...

"New York, huh?" Sadie sat in Tommy's packed-up living room and let her eyes wander around. "You and Tommy. Together. That's a huge thing."

Jude rolled her eyes. "We agreed to take things slow. We're not moving in together. We'll just be living in the same city."

"As if," Sadie murmured. "You guys can't even stay away from each other for half a day! But fine, whatever. I'm just a little disappointed I will no longer work for Tommy. It was a nice job! But Darius already offered me a job as his assistant. He liked my work for Tommy and my stern policy on inter-office relationships."

Jude gaped. "You're such a hypocrite! Tommy told me all about your inter-office relationship warfare. You're only against it because Kelly from the reception asked Kwest out on a date. I saw you looking at Kwest, Sadie! You stare at him like he is a Louis Vuitton bag on sale!"

"A _big_ Louis Vuitton bag," Sadie grinned. "We met up last night…"

"Sadie!" Jude giggled as she tossed a pillow at her sister. But then she spotted Sadie's wrist watch. "Oh fritter, my plane! Hurry, or I will be late!"

"What about Tommy? Where is he?"

"We said goodbye this morning. He's talking to Darius. He'll follow me next week when everything is taken care off. He told me I should look out for apartments for him."

"Ah. And will you?"

"Well, he's staying with me until he finds one, so…no." The sisters shared a laugh. Sadie grabbed one of Jude's duffle bags and Jude the other one, plus her acoustic guitar — the one she once got from Tommy. She looked around the apartment one last time. "To be honest, I won't miss it that much. I still see Laura in here. I thought it would be different, but there's a lot of memories in here."

"I imagine."

Jude checked the time again. "Crap, we seriously need to go." The door fell shut behind them.

...

"My very first concert," Jude beamed as Tommy twirled her around the dance floor, "can you believe it? And they all clapped and yelled my name and they even wanted encores!" She wrapped her arms around Tommy and smacked her lips against his. "This was the best night ever!"

Jude and her band had just finished playing their first small concert in a packed New York City club. It had been a month since Tommy had come to New York and things had worked out extraordinarily well since then. He had begun working at a big fancy label with some big names. Darius had rented him out, so to say. Meanwhile Jude enjoyed the intimacy of working with Rick and Chaz at their small label, a place that had become a second home to her.

"The night isn't over yet," Tommy whispered as his lips trailed a line of erotic kisses down her neck. His index finger curled into the fabric of her dress and he tugged it down her shoulder. "My new bed got delivered this afternoon. We need to christen it properly."

"The new bed? You mean the new extra large, super comfortable, perfect sleep guaranteed bed with the magic mattress and the massage function?"

"The very bed," said Tommy.

"We can't have sex on it," Jude objected with a sly smile. "What if it takes offense and breaks?"

"I'll take that chance!" He kissed her again, deep and full of passion, not the least bit caring that they were in public and that a picture of them might show up in the tabloids. Jude had grown a thicker skin and no longer worried what was written about her. She knew she could sing. She deserved the record deal. And if someone still thought of her as a fame-whore then they would stick to their believes no matter what any tabloid or magazine wrote. Tommy was proud of her attitude. And grateful for the many kisses she showered him with.

"Have you, um,..." Jude fought for the right words to say this. "The new Talk National is out and..."

"Do they have us on the cover? You want me to talk to Chaz about this?"

"No! They have Laura on the cover. In Saint Tropez. With another man. And she is kissing him." She wrapped her arms tightly around him. "I could understand if that hurts you." He buried his face into the crook of her neck, but Jude was surprised to find him laughing. "You're amused?"

"Yes." He leaned back. "And slightly offended. Would you really be okay with me being jealous or hurt over my ex-wife's dating life?"

Jude shrugged coolly. "Not okay with it. But I'm trying to be mature and understanding."

"I prefer you jealous and emotional."

She grinned as they kissed yet again. "Thank God! I totally would have kicked your ass for being jealous!"

"I'm happy for Laura. We met, before I boarded the plane to New York. We ran into each other at the airport. She's staying in France for a while. I told her I'd move to New York to be with you. I think she's happy for us, too. We were never meant to be - that we agree on!" His eyes darkened as he took in her dress. "You didn't wear that on stage. I'd have noticed."

"Nope. Listen to this, I went shopping today. To a designer store. But this time, I decided which dress I would buy. The woman tried telling me I didn't have the curves for a Herve Leger dress, but I liked it and so I bought it. Well, technically you bought it - I did use your credit card. But I also bought something for you. To make up for it."

"Oh!" He smiled. "How generous of me!"

"You said I could use the card for emergencies. It was a fashion emergency."

"I'm glad you used it. And don't let that woman fool you - you look smokin' hot!" His hands traveled down her hips, towards her butt. He gave it a firm squeeze. "What's the something you bought for me?"

"Edible underwear."

"Let's go home."

With a laugh she followed him out.

...

"The master tapes from yesterday are in your bag, the track list and the revised lyrics are in your office and your phone has been sync'd with our label's client list, so you should have every number you need at your disposal." Gwen, a young twenty-something brunette, checked her to-do list and smiled. "All done for the day. Have a nice afternoon off."

Tommy smiled in return. "Thanks. Any word from Jude? She wanted to call me but I never heard from her."

"Jude?" Gwen frowned.

"Jude Harrison. Blond hair, messy clothes, always carrying a guitar around. Did she drop by?"

"Oh, that girl. She's sitting in the lobby waiting for you. Told me not to disturb you."

He rolled his eyes. He'd been working for the last two hours only because Jude hadn't phoned to let him know she was here. If he had known, he'd have called it a day hours ago. Grabbing his jacket and bag, Tommy made his way into the lobby. Gwen followed behind. "Harrison! I've been waiting for you!"

"Sorry!" She leaned up, quickly pecked his lips and then sat down again. "Five more minutes, okay?" Her journal rested in her lap. And she held a pen in her hand.

He sighed. "Inspiration, huh?" Dropping his bag and jacket on the couch, he sat down next to her and leaned back. "You can go home if you want, Gwen. I'll just sit here and wait until my girlfriend is done writing." He saw Jude biting back a smile and chuckled. "Thanks for your help all day."

"You're welcome."

"Oh, next time," Jude looked up from her journal, glancing at Gwen, "you don't have to talk behind my back. I overheard you and that red-haired lady chatting about me earlier. To clear up some of the facts you had wrong, I am eighteen years old, not twenty-one. Tommy knows and he doesn't care that I'm not allowed to go into bars. I do know how to wear a dress, I prefer not to. And in case you don't take my word for it, Tommy will gladly assure you that our sex life is very fulfilling." She winked. "Any more questions?"

Gwen blushed deeply. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Jude assured. "Have a nice day."

As soon as Gwen was gone, Tommy covered his face with his hands and began laughing. "I actually feel sorry for her! You totally showed her up."

"That's the new, old me. I face life straight-forwardly."

"In that case," said Tommy as he took the journal from her hands, "so will I. I'm horny. Let's go and have sex."

"Five more minutes," she repeated her earlier wish. "I'm in the middle of this really great ballad!"

"Jude." Tommy held her journal firmly as she tugged on it. "Let me express myself a little better." He leaned into her, whispering into her hear, "I have been thinking all day about you. For the last two hours the only thing I could think of was you, naked, sprawled out on the bed, begging me to fuck you. Right now, my lips itch to kiss you in places I can't possibly kiss you in public. My cock is hard and my balls are beginning to hurt. I'm asking you nicely: can we please go home and have dirty, sweaty, intense sex before I ravage you in the middle of this lobby?"

She swallowed hard. "Absolutely."

"Thanks, honey!" With a grin he got up and held out his hand for her. "By the way, how was your day?"

"Boring. Damn you, Tom Quincy. You've got me flustered!"

"I love you, too!"


End file.
